


I Live For You, I Long For You

by armadillosunset



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Harry holding a baby, Liam is mentioned in passing - Freeform, Louis Tomlinson Loves Harry Styles, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg Louis, Mutual Pining, Niall pops in on occasion, Talk of adoption, flatmates, guaranteed, that’ll make you cry, why is that not a tag???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:15:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25301470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armadillosunset/pseuds/armadillosunset
Summary: Until an hour ago, Louis Tomlinson was absolutely certain he had the flu.It wasn’t until Harry returned that Louis finally went to the clinic — and, really, only because Harry had nagged him.“You should have gone sooner!” Harry scolded as he sat on the coffee table as he took the sick boy’s temperature — normal — while Louis lay on their couch. “There’s a seventy-two hour window for flu medicine, you know.”Louis didn’t know that. Not that it mattered, anyway. He certainly didn’t have the flu, as it turns out.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 158





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This work has been my (pun intended) baby for close to a year now. It’s one of the first things I started working on (after coming to AO3 and discovering the joy that is the mpreg genre) and I’ve slowly ticked away at it here and there between other things. 
> 
> Also, I realize that ‘Olivia’ as a baby name is about as cliche as you can get when it comes to this fandom, but I like to think I did a nice unexpected twist on it in this piece. I was also too new to the fandom to realize how cliche it was and it just kinda stuck and I never changed it.
> 
> I’m a bit sad to finally be finished with it (ah, who am I kidding, I could have worked on this one forever!) but I’m excited for the next project, which I’ll elaborate on later.
> 
> Title is from, you guessed it, Olivia by One Direction :)
> 
> Enjoy!~

Renting his spare bedroom to Harry Styles was the stupidest idea Louis Tomlinson ever had. 

Don’t get him wrong, Harry was quite possibly the best flatmate ever in the history of flatmates. He was tidy, relatively quiet, and an amazing cook—which was a godsend given Louis’ entire cooking repertoire began and ended with frozen microwave meals. He was a friendly enough chap and the two had gotten off well together, quickly becoming close friends not long after Harry moved in almost two years ago.

No, the problem was that Harry was the most attractive man Louis had ever laid eyes on. 

When Liam had told him he had a friend looking to move to the area after graduating uni, Louis was a bit reluctant to offer up his spare room. His last demon of a roommate had just moved out and he honestly wanted a break from sharing his living space, even if it meant money being tight and picking up extra shifts at the cafe to make up for the additional rent. When Liam insisted on them at least meeting each other, Louis complied if only for the sake of a free meal from his friend. But he took one look at the tall man awkwardly standing behind Liam and he practically chucked the keys to the flat in his beautiful face before even learning the young man’s name.

Harry was a modern day Adonis with his beautiful short messy curls clipped close on the sides, fascinating green eyes that were never the exact same shade twice, a precious dimple that came out when he smiled, and his jawline literally made Louis weak in the knees when he stared at it too long (not that he did, mind you). Louis was an average height—don’t listen to Niall, especially when he’s drunk, or any one else for that matter, Louis was very much within average limits—but enjoyed the view from craning his neck up to meet Harry’s face, the other boy standing a good head taller than him. He was quiet but hilarious once Louis got to know him a bit better and the young man opened up more, often giving Louis a run for his money on snappy comebacks, and Harry had a massive heart of gold that Louis was pretty sure was bottomless. 

Harry was an angel.

And right now Louis was a horny mess of pregnancy hormones who was willing to give anything, absolutely anything (no, you don’t understand, anything), to be fucked by Harry Styles right this minute. They had never actually had sex together, but with someone as utterly wonderful as Harry fucking Styles, well, the sex couldn’t be anything less than amazing, Louis was sure of it. To add insult to injury, his hand was only taking the edge off matters, making Louis more frustrated than satisfied. 

Even worse, like it could get any worse at this point, it wasn’t like Louis could just waltz over to the next room and grab Harry by his crotch and demand a good fucking that would leave him sore and unable to sit for the rest of the week. 

Louis couldn’t do that because flatmates who are just friends don’t do that sort of thing. Especially when one flatmate was six months pregnant with another man’s baby. Even if that same pregnant flatmate had a massive crush on the other flatmate every single day since he laid eyes on him.

With that being said, it ought to be noted that it was very much Harry’s fault that Louis was currently pregnant. 

You see, if Harry hadn’t needed a place to live, then Louis wouldn’t have offered him his spare bedroom to live in. 

And if Harry didn’t live in Louis’s spare bedroom and exist in his general living space, then Louis wouldn’t have had to occasionally go out and sleep with random men he found at the pub to try and forget about the beautiful yet completely unattainable man he shared a flat with. 

And if he hadn’t looked for random men in the pub, he wouldn’t have gotten drunk enough one night to agree to bottom with a man with a nearly as rugged jawline — Louis was sure nothing out there could beat Harry’s angular features, which honestly belonged in a uni geometry book — when Louis always, always, topped. 

Always.

There was a knock on the bedroom door that pulled Louis out from his thoughts of where exactly his life had gone wrong. “Hey Lou?” Came Harry’s muffled voice from the other side.

Louis groaned as he pulled the blanket up over his protruding stomach, hiding the fact his pants were shoved down to his knees. Leave it to Harry to pick the worst times. “Yeah. It’s fine, come in,” he shouted back for the other to hear.

The door creaked open and a beautiful mess of chocolate curls and green eyes poked through the opening, finding Louis laying in his bed. “Are you okay? Is it the baby—?”

“Yes, and fine,” Louis tried to give a convincing smile so Harry had no reason to investigate further. “Just felt like having a lie down is all, get off my feet a bit.”

“Oh, um, okay,” Harry coughed, averting his eyes to the floor. “Just, I don’t feel like cooking tonight so I was gonna order pizza. Was wondering if the usual was okay or if the baby had something else in mind?”

Louis was touched, although slightly embarrassed if he was being honest, that Harry would ask such a thing. Touched because it was such a sweet and considerate gesture for Harry to ask such a thing. Embarrassed because the mortifying memory came flooding back of the time Harry found him sobbing on the kitchen floor a couple months ago because they had gotten their usual orders of pad thai but by time the postmates driver got there, Louis confessed that that wasn’t what he wanted and for some reason, which he still didn’t understand, bawling his eyes out on the kitchen floor seemed like the appropriate action rather than just making another food order and saving the pad Thai for later.

“What do you think, love? The usual pepperoni sound good?” Louis craned his neck, speaking to his child as he gently rubbed small circles on his stomach. The inhabitant danced around, limbs tickling and jabbing Louis from the inside. “After much consideration, pepperoni has been deemed an acceptable offering for the parasite.”

Harry shook his head with a smile as he turned to leave. “I wish you wouldn’t say that, but okay.”

“But it’s true!” Louis shouted back with a laugh as Harry shut the bedroom door behind him, leaving Louis alone again. It was a joke, the parasite thing, something Louis had seen online that made him laugh so he adopted it. 

He strangely liked the idea of a little one coming along, for the most part at least. Louis loved kids, loved caring for all his younger siblings growing up, and he always wanted to be a father. Okay, so it wasn’t the greatest timing, he’ll admit that; he would have preferred to be married, or at the very least in a steady relationship, and not be incubating the results of a one night stand. And, sure, the other guy wasn’t around and made it very clear he didn’t want to be, but Louis could live with that—the perks of a one night stand was that there really was no attachment. 

Between freelance writing, working at the cafe, and having a flatmate to share the bills with, Louis wasn’t hurting financially — he certainly wasn’t rich by any means, but things were comfortable. And though he felt guilty about it, his mother and sisters had been showering him with baby items left and right so he hadn’t needed to buy much for the little human he was growing.

What left him on edge, however, was Harry: he didn’t want Harry to leave his life over this. Losing any regular flatmate, Louis wouldn’t care less, and hadn’t cared less with the handful of people before Harry. It was losing Harry, period. When Louis had found out he was pregnant and broke the news to his flatmate, he was sure he would lose Harry then and there. But the young man had taken it surprisingly well, all things considered. Now, as time went on, Louis was left with one question that he had been blatantly ignoring because he wasn’t sure he was ready for the answer.

What twenty-three year old guy in his right mind would want to share a flat with a newborn, and eventually a child, he had nothing to do with? 

Louis prayed every night that Harry was not in his right mind.


	2. Six

Until an hour ago, Louis Tomlinson was absolutely certain he had the flu.

He had spent the majority of the last week in misery, mostly nausea that refused to go away and the constant desire to lay down and take a nap no matter how early he went to bed the night before. He had thrown up a few times but he chalked that up to the nausea and having to rely on his shoddy cooking skills what with Harry away visiting family.

It wasn’t until Harry returned that Louis finally went to the clinic — and, really, only because Harry had nagged him. 

“You should have gone sooner!” Harry scolded as he sat on the coffee table as he took the sick boy’s temperature — normal — while Louis lay on their couch. “There’s a seventy-two hour window for flu medicine, you know.”

Louis didn’t know that. Not that it mattered, anyway. He certainly didn’t have the flu, as it turns out.

Harry was waiting for him at the door to their flat, ushering Louis in and taking his jacket. “How did it go? Did they give you tamiflu or anything?”

Louis was numb, Harry’s questions barely registered in his head. He had spent the last half hour, after stopping by the pharmacy, wandering around the neighborhood trying to gather his thoughts. Instead of answering, Louis made his way over to the couch and sat down, tossing the bag with his two purchased bottles onto the coffee table before putting his head in his hands.

There were so many thoughts he needed to think right now, Louis didn’t know where to start.

From the darkness of his hands, Louis heard the crunch of the plastic bag and the rattle of pills as Harry picked up the bottles, turning them around and looking them over. There was silence as he, Louis assumed, read the labels.

“Wait, they told you to take Unisom and vitamin... oh shit.”

Crying seemed like a good place to start, if anywhere. “I don’t have the flu,” Louis quietly sobbed. “I’m pregnant.”

There was no response except for the plastic of the pill bottles hitting the hardwood floor, each with a sharp clack, the pills rattling as the bottles rolled. With tears clouding his vision, Louis looked up in time to see Harry’s bedroom door close behind him. He was alone in the living room. Very alone.

Technically not alone. There was someone else, even if they were just a tiny mass of cells at this point.

He stared at the bottles for a moment, as they came to a rest near his feet. Unisom and B6. “For your morning sickness,” the doctor at the clinic had explained. Morning sickness, because he didn’t have the flu; he was pregnant, which he still couldn’t wrap his head around as the man with the white coat shoved pamphlet after pamphlet at Louis while his legs dangled over the edge of the exam table. 

While the word kept running through his head as he walked out of the clinic and down the street into the pharmacy, he couldn’t bring himself to buy the prenatal vitamins the doctor had suggested he started taking as well. If he bought them, it was real — prenatal vitamins, were for pregnant people, after all. And if he bought them, the cashier would know, somehow she would just know Louis was certain of it, and he couldn’t take that kind of judgement right now. So he snatched the other two and hurriedly checked out, refusing to make eye contact with the older woman who rang him up.

After that, he didn’t want to go home, so he wandered around for awhile, trying to think. It didn’t help that practically everyone had a child with them that day—they were all over the place, or so it seemed, running and laughing and being carted around in strollers. He passed a small coffee shop and noticed a pregnant woman standing there, scrolling through her phone. Louis paused his journey and placed a hand over his flat stomach as he looked down. There was nothing now, he still looked fine — normal, could he say normal or was that offensive — but soon. Soon he’d be just like that and...

That thought sent Louis over the edge and he laid down on the couch, letting the sobs overtake him. He didn’t care how loud he was as his small frame heaved, tears streaming from his eyes and pooling wet spots into the cushions. He just wanted to be held, comforted. He wanted his mum to come hold him like she did when he was young and scared. He may be older now, but he was still very much scared. He wanted Harry to come back out from his room and say everything was going to be okay, and maybe hold him too, for no other reason than Louis just wanted someone to hold him and talk him through this.

Louis choked out another sob. Harry was gone; ran away like he rightfully should have. He had ruined any chance he ever had of getting Harry, not that he had exactly been successful or productive in the last two years, but the point was: that ship had sailed. That was probably what hurt the most in this moment. Not unexpected impending fatherhood, but the thought that Harry was gone.

Shit, what if he moved out? Louis could barely afford the place on his own without a baby, but with a baby... he’d probably have to move back home, to an already to small house with too many people in it. Or attempt to find a flatmate willing to live with a screamy newborn.

Eventually, the sobs faded into sniffles as Louis lay on the couch, staring at Harry’s still closed bedroom door. He tried to think about other things. Mainly: holy fuck he was going to be a dad, and be responsible for another whole person. That, and the fact he was going to carry—something he had never once considered given his usual preferences. He always assumed he was going to get someone else pregnant, not the other way around. He would have to track down that cute-Harry-Styles-look-alike bartender that caused all this and tell him about the baby. But he didn’t want to think about that right now. He didn’t want to think about any of this right now.

He remembered shifting onto his back with a sniffle and throwing an arm over his puffy eyes, giving up on willing Harry’s door to open with his mind. The next thing he knew he was waking up wrapped in a blanket, sprawled out on his bed, with Harry cautiously leaning over him, gently trying to wake him.

“Come on, Lou. I know you’re tired, but you need to eat something and take your medicine. I ordered from that Korean place you like.”

“Pho?” Louis’ voice was hoarse as it scratched at his throat, raw from the crying. He blinked as Harry’s form came into view as he sat beside him on the bed. Had he carried Louis in here? He honestly didn’t remember leaving the couch.

“Mhmm. Pho real,” Harry gave a quick smile as he stood up and stepped back, knowing full well Louis would smack him for yet another stupid pun, but Louis didn’t budge — he just didn’t have it in him right now. “Got your usual bowl, plus some broth and noodles on the side just in case, um, you know.” Harry’s green eyes lingered at Louis’ front for a moment before snapping in another direction.

“Oh. Yeah.” Everything came rushing back to Louis as he sat up in the bed. Though he was wrapped up in the throw blanket that was usually draped over the couch, he stared down at his front, at what was in there, in him. Louis couldn’t help a tear rolling down his cheek.

“Hey, Lou. Hey. It’s alright,” Harry’s voice was soft as he stepped back to the bed. He hesitated for a second before sitting down, taking Louis’ shoulders in his hands. “It’s gonna be okay. Let’s go eat, yeah? Then we’ll figure things out from there. But you need to eat. I let you sleep through lunch so we’re having dinner early. And an empty stomach is just going to aggravate your morning sickness.”

“It’s not morning though.” Louis pouted as he wiped at his face with the blanket before scooting around Harry, standing up and heading for the door. Harry was quick to follow.

“Spoiler alert,” Harry smirked as he took the blanket from Louis’s shoulders and tossed it back to the couch, “morning sickness doesn’t know how to tell time.”

They ate their meals in silence at the table, the soup being the first appetizing thing Louis had had all week. After, Harry cleared their plates — or rather, the flimsy takeout styrofoam — to the trash bin and poured hot water from the electric kettle that Louis had failed to notice was on into two mugs. He set one in front of Louis and took the other with him as he sat back across the table.

“What is this?” Louis asked as he lifted the cup to his face. He took a sniff, his face distorting into one of disgust.

“Peach ginger tea.”

“I hate fruit teas.” Louis scowled, pushing the cup away. “Where’s the Yorkshire?”

“It works wonders for morning sickness. Just try it.”

“I’m feeling better, really.”

“Lou,” Harry warned, glaring over the rim of his mug as he took a sip. Sheepishly, Louis took a sip. Okay, it wasn’t horrible, but it definitely wasn’t blessed Yorkshire.

There was a cough from across the table. “I’m sorry I walked away earlier, when you came home. I know you needed me, someone, right then and I just walked away.” Harry stared down into his mug of tea, avoiding Louis’ gaze. “I just... I needed a moment. I’m sorry. It was... sudden, your news.”

“How do you think I feel?” Louis muttered into his tea. It really wasn’t that bad, the more he drank it. “I just have no idea where to even begin thinking about all this. It’s all so much at once, you know?”

Harry gave a sympathetic nod. “Then start at the beginning and work from there. The first thing is knowing your options.”

“I’m keeping it.” Louis was quick to respond. Why did he feel such shame in giving that answer? It was a feeling of letting someone down, of failing—himself perhaps, if he felt like digging deep down and being all philosophical and whatnot. “Are... are you okay with that?”

“Not my body, not my decision, Lou. Only you can make that call.” Harry smiled, his eyes meeting Louis’ for the first time since this all began. “Do you know...?”

“Yeah,” it was Louis’ turn to avert his eyes. “It was this bartender I had a one night stand with. Asshole got me drunk enough to where I agreed to bottom.”

Harry choked on his tea. “I was going to ask how far along are you, but okay.” A small laugh escaped his lips that made Louis blush. “You always struck me as a top kind of guy, you know.”

The heat was really creeping up Louis’ face now, with such open talk of Louis’ sex life—more so, talking it over with Harry. He happily talked sex with his friends when they were hanging out, but Harry was a whole other matter entirely. Louis pondered for a moment which Harry preferred, if he had a preference at all—men or women, top or bottom, Louis wanted to know it all. “To answer the original question, about six or seven weeks I guess. I have to find a doctor to make an appointment for blood work and a dating scan for the official verdict.”

Again, Harry nodded sympathetically, his lips pressed into a thin line—a face that Louis couldn’t quite read. “So you’re keeping-keeping it, the baby?”

“I... Yeah. So far, anyway. I think I can make this all work. Somehow. I want to be a dad, Just I assumed it would be under other... circumstances.” Louis groaned. “This is all so much.”

“One thing at a time, Lou. Take it easy, worrying isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

“No offense, but how are you so okay about all this?”

If Louis hadn’t known Harry as well as he did, he would have easily missed the small twitch of the man’s jaw as his muscles tightened, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he set the mug of tea down with a sharp clink. “Had a friend back in uni. Similar situation.” The tone of Harry’s voice was hurried and sharp, which Louis took as a not-so-subtle hint to not to press any further on the subject.

Harry rarely ever talked of his time at university. After two years of living together, all Louis really knew was where Harry had gone, what he majored in, and that he had met Liam and Niall along the way. Louis, on the other hand, often regaled tales of parties, drunken nights, and various shenanigans he and his friends had gotten into. Harry would politely listen, but shrugged off any questions about his personal uni experience with a general response.

For Louis to suddenly hear this little tidbit of information — well, needless to say he was floored.

“Well, at least one of us knows what we’re doing.” Louis tried to laugh off the situation.

“Lucky you, eh?” Harry smirked.

Louis returned a smirk of his own, giving Harry a wink as he lifted the mug once more. “Lucky me.”

A wink? Really, what the actual fuck was wrong with him. Where did this sudden bold behavior come from? Doubly so because there was currently zero alcohol involved, so he couldn’t blame it on that. Maybe it was this shitty fruit tea—Yeah, that had to be it. He’d blame the tea.

“Oh, speaking of. You’ll need these.” Harry bent over in his chair. Louis followed as well, peering under the table to see the large slender hand snatch a plastic bag. Back upright, Harry removed a bottle and slid it across the table. Louis arched a brow as he looked at the plastic thing.

“You went out and bought me gummy vitamins? Seriously, Haz, I’m not a little kid.”

“Prenatal vitamins, Lou. You need them. I’m surprised you didn’t pick some up when you got the other stuff, surely the doctor told you to.” Louis rolled his eyes at his flatmate’s smug voice. “And they taste like candy, so maybe you’ll actually take them without me nagging.”

Those damn prenatal vitamins were hell bent on taunting him today, apparently.

“Okay. Then what?”

“What?”

“So, I eat these things,” Louis shook the bottle in question, “and grow a baby? That’s it?”

Harry coughed a bit on his tea, a smile finding his lips as he wiped at a dribble of liquid with his hand. “Bit more to it than that. Like doctor’s appointments and stuff, but yeah. That’s about it.”

Shit. A doctor. Louis forgot about that little tidbit. Of course he’d need one. He voiced as much to his flatmate.

“How did you forget about finding a doctor? Did the clinic not tell you anything when they told you you were expecting?”

“There may have been some pamphlets. Couldn’t bring myself to read them. It’s all too much right now.” His mind wandered to the trash can outside the pharmacy, where he had stuffed said pamphlets before walking in.

“So step one, you’re finding a doctor — one that specializes in male pregnancy. You need lab work and stuff done. Possibly an ultrasound, depending on how far you are. But this is serious, Lou. Find one. Today.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll get my laptop right now. Can I at least get a proper cuppa first? One cup of this fruit bullshit is more than enough.”

“I know you hate it, but is your stomach bothering you any more? I didn’t think so.” Harry replied with a smirk, to which Louis just scowled as he made off to find his insurance card and laptop.

—++—

The resulting doctor’s appointment was only slightly mortifying, rather than the bone-crushing embarrassment Louis was expecting. It was the nurse who made him want to run for the hills and never look back, What with all her intrusive questions. From a medical standpoint, he could understand how it was all necessary. From a personal standpoint he would have rather done absolutely anything else than discuss, with a complete stranger who was taking notes on a tablet, the fact he had a one night stand that went the wrong kind of sideways.

The doctor herself was a woman on the farther side of middle age with a comfortable, reassuring air about her. She was straight and to the point on matters but wasn’t uptight in her demeanor. He had gotten the recommendation for this one from his mother — who knew her fair share of doctors after years of nursing — after hours of scrolling through name after name online and getting no where.

(He also may have told his mum the doctor was for Harry, and he’d definitely have to straighten out his little fib before the next him his mum and Harry saw each other — because at the time of the phone call Louis couldn’t bring himself to tell his own mum he was unexpectedly pregnant). 

As much as he didn’t want to go, he went to the appointment. Harry clearly didn’t trust him to actually go if he was alone. Even though the man was at work, Louis received a call halfway to his destination.

“You better not be having second thoughts on going.” Harry’s voice growled at him through the phone.

“What?” Louis snapped. He was sitting on a park bench for a moment, running early to his appointment and needing the rest as he wasn’t in the greatest shape at the best of times — and these last couple weeks drained him of whatever stamina he had.

“You haven’t moved for awhile, and you’re not there yet. Stop lollygagging.”

“You’re like the only person under sixty who says — wait, how the fuck do you know where I am?” Louis frantically looked around him, but there was no one aside from a jogger passing by and some kids at a far off playground. “Hold up. You turned on the location on my phone didn’t you! You’re such a creep.” He pulled the phone down from his ear and gave it a quick glare.

“I’m a caring and dutiful flatmate who is only concerned about your wellbeing and the wellbeing of your unborn child slash our future flatmate.”

“You’re a stalker, that’s what.” Louis was glad Harry couldn’t actually see him right then, given how he was currently beaming from Harry’s words. Our future flatmate. So Harry had no intentions of moving out, of leaving Louis. Maybe he could do all this after all. Especially as he wouldn’t be losing Harry. Not that he couldn’t do it without Harry, he could, but. Harry.

Maybe there was even still hope for him and the tall man — it was a shred of a hope, but Louis would take what he could get.

“Lewis, get up and get going. You’re not skipping out on this appointment. It’s important and you need to go.”

“Okay, okay, pushy much aren’t you.” He stood up and began walking. “My little dot moving yet? Happy?”

“Yeah. But you’re going the wrong way, dumbass.”


	3. Fourteen

“If you’re going make those kinds of noises, at least shut the door!”

Louis let out another groan as he rolled his eyes. He flipped a middle finger to Harry through the doorway to where the man sat on the couch before setting back to work on his pants.

This was the last pair of work-suitable pants he owned, his entire closet now on the floor as a result of trying to find just one more pair to try on. It, like every other pair he had tried, refused to come anywhere close to zipping up beyond a few teeth — the hope of buttoning had died sometime last week. This pair barely slid over his hips, only after much hopping about, and sat a little too snugly against his ass, though the fly remained wide open. He tried all the tricks, hopping up and down, sucking his gut in, laying down on the bed — the last one worked until he tried to stand up and the pants would painfully cut into his stomach until he caved and undid the zip. He would have been fine if he didn’t need to, you know, breathe.

“This isn’t funny, Harold!” Louis shouted out the doorway. He could still hear Harry’s chuckles from the other room. “My shift starts in an hour and nothing fits!”

“What do you mean, ‘nothing fits’?” The tall man appeared in the doorway, leaning into the doorframe as he took another bite of an apple. The crunch of it grated on Louis’ last nerve.

“Well, I mean,” Louis huffed as he gestured to his front, to the failed attempt at the simple task of dressing himself. He had taken the last few days off from the cafe to work on a piece for one of his semi-regular (and very well paying) freelance clients and had worn blessedly stretchy and comfortable joggers around the flat. Now, when time was of the essence, his black work pants were failing him. While he considered digging a pair out of the hamper, that had been successfully worn last week, something told him none of those would fit either.

Harry smirked as he chewed, his eyes lingering at Louis’ waist. “Whoa. Someone popped.”

“What?”

“Baby bump. Pop!” The popping noise Harry created was even worse than the apple crunch and Louis had to resist the urge to slap the tall man. Instead of inflicting bodily harm on his flatmate, he looked down at his front. He supposed he was showing, just a little bit, maybe, at the right angle. 

Okay, fine he was showing. Even he couldn’t push it off as the result of a few days of shitty meals any more. But still, nothing a baggy jumper or a sweatshirt couldn’t hide. That didn’t solve his pants problem though.

“You know, you probably could have bought yourself a little more time before this happened if you didn’t insist on squeezing yourself into skin-tight skinny jeans.” Crunch.

Louis shot Harry a glare. Sure, he had a point about the tight pants, but Louis liked them. He never said anything about a certain someone’s floral shirts that looked straight out of a Boden catalogue or the rainbow of glitter someone left trailed around the house from multiple outfits. “My ass looks amazing in skinny jeans, thank you. How do you think I get such good tips?”

“Definitely not your personality, that’s for sure.” 

Louis scowled and flipped another bird to which Harry stuck out his tongue before he took yet another excessively loud crunch.

“Your ass looks amazing in the pants if you can get the pants on.” Harry spoke with his mouth full of apple.

“Either help me figure something out or fuck off. I have to be at work—.”

“I know, I know. Your shift starts in an hour. Chill, preggo.” Harry waved Louis off with the half eaten apple as he stepped out of the room. “I have a solution.”

“What the hell did you just call me?” Louis called after his retreating flatmate but received no response.

Hold on a second. Did Harry just agree to Louis’ ass looking good? In skinny jeans? Louis swore that was what he heard. He blinked, playing the moment back in his mind, trying to analyze his memory of their conversation.

“Alright. Here.” Louis stumbled back to the reality of Harry holding out something in his hand. Louis picked it up, instantly shooting the tall man a questioning look.

“A hair elastic? The fuck am I supposed to do with this?” The better question was: why did Harry have a neon pink hair elastic readily available on short notice?

“You just loop it around and — never mind, I’ll do it. Give it.” Harry huffed as he snatched the elastic back from Louis and set his apple down on a nearby dresser. Louis cringed at the sight of the half eaten apple just sitting there. Mocking him. Ugh.

He didn’t have much time to loathe the fruit before he shot his eyes upward, and a blush crept across his cheeks from the unexpected situation unfolding before him.

Now, there were plenty of times Louis had imagined Harry kneeling before him, messing with the button of his pants — oh, plenty of times — and equally as many ways in which he pictured the events leading up to such. But this was most definitely not one of them. 

He tried to mask the sharp intake of breath he took as he felt Harry’s knuckle graze against the skin of his lower stomach, and again when Harry’s fingers dipped just beneath the edge of the jeans’ fabric, holding it while pressed to the fabric of his boxers. Louis tried not to think of Harry’s long, slender fingers working so close — so very, very, close and just one little tug away — from fulfilling some of his darkest fantasies.

“There you go. Should hold you over for your shift at least.” Louis breathed a sigh of relief as Harry stood up. Any longer and things really would have gotten awkward down there, Harry being eye level with his crotch. Looking down, Louis found the pink tie looped through the buttonhole of his jeans, an extension rope to the button so to speak, successfully holding the pants together.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll pick you up from work later and we’ll go shopping. And don’t argue with me on it.”

Louis only sighed, still looking down at his front. There was no argument here, not even for him. There wasn’t much, barely a swell to be honest, but it was only going to get worse from here. And if he was being honest, besides some pants he could use some new underwear too; the elastic getting a bit too snug.

True to his word, Harry was waiting in the parking lot as Louis walked out of the small cafe with a wave to his favorite coworkers. Harry then drove the pair of them to a shopping center a fair distance away. As he looked up at the signage, Louis couldn’t help but whine. “Harry, no. Can’t we just go to Tesco or something?”

“You’re going to need more than a single pair of pants and Tesco is shit on decent pregnancy clothes.” Harry waved a hand at the store’s window. “Look! There’s a sale!”

“This is so embarrassing,” Louis muttered as he unbuckled himself and exited the vehicle, Harry close on his heels.

“No, ‘embarrassing’ is having to beg your flatmate for a solution to keep your pants on. Besides, it’s a specialty store, you’re in good company.” A tiny bell chimed, signaling their entrance into the store. “You’ll get more looks going into a regular store’s pregnancy section, you know.”

Louis just sighed as he tipped up onto his toes for a look around the small space. The store had a boutique feel to it, with everything from casual to dressy attire displayed in every possible nook and cranny of floorspace; women’s to the front, men’s to the back, as usual. As packed full as it was, the place didn’t seem crowded, helped by the fact there were only two other customers in the store, as well as a tiny — even tinier than Louis, though he was not tiny, mind you — woman who was rushing at them.

Her voice was unusually chipper, which made Louis cringe and he wanted even more to run back to the car. He hated happy, pushy salespeople. “Hello, hello! Welcome—!” The woman suddenly stopped, staring at Harry.

At the corner of his eye, Louis caught Harry stiffen beside him and swore he heard a curse muttered under his breath.

“Harry? Harry Styles, is that you?” Somehow, the woman managed to grin even wider as she looked Harry over from head to toe.

“Lola!” Harry quickly grinned in response, stooping down to give the woman a hug. “What are you doing here?” He half laughed in an equally chipper tone. Louis was ready to throw up from all this.

“Got transferred here a couple years back.” She waved a hand after their embrace. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! Never thought I’d see you back shopping—.”

“Great to see you too, Lo.” Harry cut in.

“I’m going to go look around,” Louis nodded to the back of the store, “give you two some space, catch up or whatever.”

Harry hissed at the woman after Louis began to wander away, though Louis could still hear. “Flatmate, before you say another word.”

Louis just rolled his eyes as he made his way across the floor, making sure there was plenty of space between him and the other people in the store. He wanted zero chance of small talk from either of the, extremely, pregnant women browsing the wares. All he wanted was just a stupid pair of pants and then to get the fuck out of there without any fuzzy conversations of due dates or parenting advice or, dear god, birth plans.

He paused for a moment, giving a glare to the sign that designated the men’s section. The attractive young man in the picture was far too happy for how pregnant he was, laughing with a wide smile, a suit coat hooked over his shoulder with a finger, dressed in what was probably a stiff dress shirt and slacks. It had to be photoshopped. Louis was no where near that far along and all he wanted to wear was his sweatshirt and joggers — and work pants that actually zipped.

With a shake of his head he continued on, spotting a rack of black pants not far off.

“As luck would have it, that woman owes me at least a dozen favors.” Harry appeared beside Louis, leaning on the rack of pants Louis was looking through. “So she’s letting you use her employee discount — half off.”

“How do you know her, anyway? Uni?” Louis glanced up as he continued to mindlessly skim through the selection. He had been surprised to find that there was such a thing as pregnancy skinny jeans, but he no idea what sort of features he was supposed to be looking for in all this and just kept sliding hangers back and forth mindlessly.

“Sort of. I worked at one of these near campus.”

Louis dropped the pair of pants he was holding, shock apparent on his face. He wasn’t sure what to begin processing first: that fact that Harry had let loose yet another detail of his life while in uni, or that Harry had worked at a store selling pregnancy clothing — not exactly where he had imagined Harry working, or any uni kid, to be honest.

“Friend needed a discount, I needed extra money. Win-win.” Green eyes glanced up as they bobbed down for the fallen pants. Louis couldn’t help but blush as he averted his eyes. “And you’re gonna want the ones with the full band.”

“Why do you suggest that, oh wise one?”

“No offense, but you’re a bit on the shorter side, so there’s nowhere for this kid to go but out; the short band is better for the very end otherwise they keep falling down, unless you buy two sizes: one for now and one for later. Best value per-wear will be the full band pants. Unless you want to come back shopping again in a few—.”

“Yeah, no. Full band, got it. Let’s go.” After he grabbed the appropriate pair of pants he tried to run but was stopped by Harry’s iron grip as he stuck his arm out, wrapping it around Louis’ shoulders.

“You’re not just getting that.”

“Yes I am. I’ll do some online shopping when we get home.”

Harry laughed. “You’re getting a half-off discount, Lou. Make use of it. Also,” with a smug grin the tall man pulled his phone out of his pocket, waving it in the air, “little does Lola know, I still get emails for this place and I’ve got a coupon on top of that little discount. So get shopping. Unless you want me to pick out some things for you...?”

“God no,” Louis groaned. “Pretty sure I saw sequins around here somewhere.”


	4. Eighteen

As much as he claimed and insisted otherwise, Louis knew he wasn’t perfect, he was no saint by any means. There were plenty of things in his life that Louis had done that he was not proud of. Like the time he doused his sister with an entire bag of flour because it was her turn to pick the afternoon snack and he didn’t want a stupid apple. 

Or the time back in sixth form when he snuck back in the house, a bit tipsy and underage, from seeing his then boyfriend and threw up in the hallway on the way to his room. The next morning he tried to blame it on one of the young twins and he would have gotten away with it too except the mess smelled a bit like cheap beer.

Or when he went and dated a professor’s daughter while in uni in order to pass a course — which surprisingly did work — but he felt bad for using the poor girl, especially since he kept hitting gay bars the entire time they were together.

Tonight was another such instance of shame.

The kitchen light suddenly flicked on overhead, illuminating the small space in an instant, catching the young man in the act. Louis froze where he stood, mouth gaping as he leaned against the counter, fork and Tupperware container hovering in midair — a regular deer caught in headlights. He silently flicked his eyes to the doorway and discovered his flatmate glaring in his direction, arms crossed.

Neither made to move, and after a few moments, Louis quickly stuffed the forkful of greens into his mouth and chewed, the flavor so wonderful and satisfying against his tastebuds. “If it’s any consolation,” he spoke as he chewed, “I don’t want to be doing this.”

Harry remained stock still in the doorway, and Louis would have been intimidated by the sight if it were anyone else. Except, it was his Harry standing there, looking all soft with his sleep tousled hair, matching blue-stripe pajamas, and dark blue house robe (of course Harry would have a house robe, he was such an old geezer sometimes). It was hard to be afraid of a piercing gaze and lips that were pressed into a thin line from a man who was also wearing floppy-ear dog slippers. 

“Believe me, I hate myself right now.”

The gaze remained unwavering as Louis took another bite.

“Harry, say something.”

“You’re eating my lunch.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” Louis rolled his eyes.

“Thought I was going crazy this week,” Harry marched forward, snatching the container from Louis’ grip. “I knew I packed the proper amount. You’ve been sneaking my food!”

“Not my fault I was hungry and you make good food.” Louis couldn’t help but whine as he watched his flatmate stow the container in the fridge once more before turning around and forcibly plucking the fork out of his hand. “I’m eating for two, you know!”

“Lou. You hate salad. Kale. Spinach. Cabbage. Literally anything green that’s not weed.”

That was what Harry usually took for lunch — salad, not weed. Sometimes it would be a quick mix of leaves with a vinaigrette. Others, like as of late, he’d sauté a bit of something vegetable-like with seasoning and have that. But it was always an excessive amount of vegetables — and usually revolving around kale.

“I know! It’s disgusting! I just... I can’t help myself though! Suddenly it’s all I want.” Which was weird. And strange. And weirdly strange. Because Louis hated his veggies with a burning passion. Sure he’d have a bit of carrot here, perhaps a bite or two of corn there, a tomato on a sandwich if it came with it. But nothing more. There had been plenty of spats over the years involving Louis’ anti-vegetable stance, and Harry often compared it to dealing with a small child — except Louis knew all the bargaining tricks and didn’t fall for them. Never once in his life did he ever think ‘gee, I’d kill for a salad’.

Which was exactly what happened. He was hungry and went to explore the fridge for options, and unfortunately Harry’s lunch was sitting there, all made up and waiting to be eaten — and Louis was desperate. Hungry and pregnant and desperate.

As soon as he took a bite he knew, he knew that was exactly what he was craving. After that he snuck bites here and there, mostly in the secrecy of the middle of the night. He went so far as to stop for one of those green superfood smoothies on the way home from work one day — the same exact one he always made fun of Harry for ordering — and his tastebuds were in heaven.

Laughter suddenly rang out in the kitchen, echoing off the cabinets. Harry was nearly doubled over as he laughed, leaning on the table for support.

“I’m glad you find me eating your lunch at one in the morning to be so utterly hilarious. Mind if I finish it then?”

Louis was shocked to find the man actually return to the fridge to retrieve the plastic container. He was honestly joking, but it was delicious and if Harry was feeling generous tonight, then who was he to judge?

Harry was still laughing as Louis dug back into his little midnight snack after snatching the used fork back out of the sink. “Of course your pregnancy craving would be kale. Fucking hilarious. At least someone’s finally getting you to eat some vegetables.”

“So it’s you making me do this!” Louis moved the container to gaze down in shock at his small, eighteen week bump. Barely there, easily hidden still by jumpers and loose shirts, but there nonetheless. “Betrayed by my own offspring. You know what, are we even a hundred percent certain this is my kid? I’m questioning this now.”

“You’re carrying. Of course it’s your kid you idiot.”

“I mean, I was drunk when this happened. Maybe I wandered into a back alley surrogacy program.” Which, definitely not, he knew that. He may have been drunk at the time of conception, but he definitely remembered sleeping with that man, then feeling a bit guilty after for picking someone so similar in features to his beautiful flatmate. And the whole bottom thing.

He paused before looking up at said flatmate, a change of topic in order. “I thought cravings were supposed to be weird shit. Like pickles and ice cream. Cheese and glazed donuts. Or, I dunno, tins of off brand spam.”

“Given your usual eating habits, kale is weird as fuck for you.” And Louis couldn’t help but nod in agreement as he ate another bite, especially considering how much shit he gave Harry over the years for even buying the stuff and here he was, sneaking it out of the fridge.

Harry seated himself down at the table, still smiling, the whole ordeal clearly having put him in a good mood. “Oh god. I remember back in uni, I’d run to the store at like two, three o’clock in the morning to buy bananas because we were always out even though I legit did a shop like the day before. Because it was banana everything. Bananas on cereal, on oatmeal, on salad. By themselves. Green, yellow, brown, didn’t matter. Bananas dipped in chocolate syrup, maple syrup, yogurt. You name it there was a banana in it or beside it. The most disgusting was banana dipped in ketchup. Disgusting.” Harry shook his head, his smile as fond as ever as he reminisced.

The only thing Louis gained from that entire speech was the curiosity of how kale would taste with some ketchup on it. No wait, maybe mustard. Or both. Both was an option. Was there any in the fridge?

“After all that it’s a miracle I can even look at a banana much less still eat one.”

“God, that sounds awful.” Louis went back to the task at hand of finishing his food — Er, Harry’s food — sans condiments. Next time, though. Next time. “You sure you don’t mind?” He circled the fork over the container, indicating what had formerly been Harry’s lunch for work.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll buy something out tomorrow. And I’ll have to go back to the store for more kale because that won’t last the week between the two of us. And I guess I should just make double of my lunch every night because you’ll just keep stealing mine.”

“Three of us. And is it really considered stealing if it’s to nourish my unborn child?” Louis corrected. “And babe says please and thank you. Cause he or she already knows I can’t cook for shit.”

Harry snorted. “Smart kid.”

“Thank you, Harry. Really. You don’t have to do that, but you will because you’re you, and I appreciate it.” Louis placed the fork and empty container down in the sink beside him. He had been nibbling at Harry’s lunch for the better part of the last week, always having to force himself to stop and put the container back in the fridge before he ate too much. Now, to actually be able to finish the whole thing? It was wonderful, and Louis couldn’t be happier.

Except, now he was full. And quite possibly getting sleepy now that he was fully satiated with what he had been craving for what seemed like ages. His body betrayed him right then, and he let out a yawn, covering it with the back of his hand.

“Alright. Back to bed with you. Eating other peoples’ lunches must be utterly exhausting.”

Louis rolled his eyes before flipping Harry off, but made his way out of the kitchen anyway. He tried to stifle another yawn at the doorway but failed.


	5. Twenty-Two

“This is so stupid.” Louis groaned from his place in the passenger seat of Harry’s car. “I hate this. Why did I ever agree to it in the first place? I wanna go home.”

“Stop pouting, it’ll be fun.” Harry smiled from the driver’s seat. They were parked on the street just outside Louis’ childhood home, but Louis had refused to budge once the car was in park; he had refused to get into the vehicle to begin with, but Harry had been rather persuasive. “Don’t you want to know what you’re having?”

Louis was not pouting.

“Honestly, boy or girl either is perfectly fine, I couldn’t care less. I can probably just ring up the office and ask and avoid this all together. I should have just said yes at the ultrasound, found out right then, and sent out a nice little group email or something. But no, Lottie just has to go make a big stink about it and plan a stupid party.”

Okay, maybe Louis was pouting. 

But he had every right to in this moment, mind you. Bad enough he was going to be the center of attention at this little get together and had to put on his best ‘Oh My God So Happy You’re Here!’ face for all his family and the friends Lottie remembered to invite. But he also had to put on the act while massively (okay, he was only half way through this, but he already felt massive) pregnant and ignoring the ache in his back and the fire of persistent heartburn in his chest.

Last week had been the ultrasound appointment where Louis would have been able to find out the sex of the tiny human he was toting around. ‘Would have’ were the key words. ‘Would have’, until he had mentioned the appointment to his younger sister during one of their regular phone calls.

The girl squealed in delight after Louis told her the details of the upcoming appointment. “You should have a gender reveal party!”

“A what, now?” Louis asked as he paused mid-fold of a T-shirt, the phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear.

“A gender reveal party! Really, Lou, they’re all the rage right now.” There was a huff from the other end of the line after Louis asked her, again, what the actual fuck she was talking about. “You throw a party where you do something fun and creative to reveal the gender of your baby, to yourself and the guests. Come on, please? I’ll do all the planning, we’ll have it here at the house and —.”

“Fine, Fine. If mum’s okay with it then yeah, okay.”

Louis had agreed to this whole thing only because his little sister was a social butterfly who loved planning parties, and it would make her happy. And he enjoyed making his younger siblings happy. But now that Louis was sat out here, all he wanted to do was go back home and change into something comfortable and lounge on their couch.

“Come on, your sister put a lot of work into this. We can’t just turn away now.” Harry gently poked at Louis’ arm, a stupid grin plastered on his face. As cute as he looked right now, Louis really wanted to smack him away and keep pouting like a small child until Harry caved and they drove away; and maybe through a McDonalds drive-thru on the way back, because some chicken nuggets sounded pretty good right now.

“Besides,” Harry continued, smugly jingling the keys in the air as he pulled them from the ignition, “I have the keys and your mum made that spinach dip that I love, so I’m staying. Have fun out here waiting.”

With a wink, Harry exited the vehicle and Louis stuck his tongue out at the tall man as he walked in front of the car. This wasn’t the first time Louis grumbled to himself that he wished he had a car, but realistically, except for the occasional trip back home — which was a problem that Uber was designed to solve — he didn’t need one what with the excellent public transportation near his flat to get to and from work and the shops. He was pondering whether he had enough in his bank account to cover such a ride home (and an order of nuggets because priorities) when the passenger door suddenly opened and Louis flailed a bit even though he was still safely buckled into the seat.

“Come on, Lou. It’s your party. Now get out of the car.” Harry growled as he leaned down, making eye contact.

As a last ditch effort, Louis just crossed his arms and stared ahead out the windshield at the car Harry had parked behind.

“Don’t make me go get your mum, because I will.”

“Alright, I’m coming.” Louis made a show of grumbling and hauling his ass up and out of the seat. Harry made no move to help, just kept a cheeky grin on his face — one that perfectly showed off his dimples, if one were to pay attention to that sort of thing — and shut the door, locking it and setting the alarm before Louis could make a break for it back inside.

Harry knew him too well.

The two began the journey across the small front lawn. Now that he was outside the small cocoon of the car, Louis could hear music and chatter floating out from the backyard. A quick look behind him showed a street filled with cars. Unless there happened to be another party in this small quiet neighborhood, it looked like he and Harry were the last to arrive.

This theory was confirmed when Harry pulled open the gate to the backyard and Louis could see the space teeming with people — well, it was fifteen, maybe twenty people tops, half of that being his family, but it was a small yard. Lottie, the head of the planning committee herself, was the first to spot Louis as he hovered in the entryway, taking in the scene as Harry tried to nudge him forward.

“Louis!” She called out as she came running over and threw her arms around her brother.

Normally, when greeting one of his younger siblings, Louis would lift them up and spin them around while hugging them tight. This time he was forced to pull back, the pressure a bit too much already. “Watch it, Lots,” he smiled down at his sister as he patted his front. “Baby on board and all that.”

Lottie let out a shriek that could give a tea kettle kettle a run for its money in pitch. “Look at you! You’re absolutely—.”

“Let me guess. Glowing?”

“Oh, you!” She lightly smacked at the man. As they finally began to wander in.

Louis chuckled as he glanced beside him. “Harold, do me a favor and take a shot every time someone tells me I’m glowing this afternoon. Got a feeling ‘m going to get it a lot.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “I don’t think there’s usually alcohol at these—.”

“Niall is here. Therefore there is alcohol somewhere.” Louis nodded to the table where the man in question, as well as a few other of Louis’ friends, milled about. “Also, mum should be in the kitchen if you want your beloved spinach dip.”

The two siblings stifled a laugh as the tall man quickly scurried off without another word, grin plastered on his face as if he were a small child promised candy — not a twenty-four year old seeking out a vegetable-laced appetizer.

Lottie had really outdone herself with the decor, Louis concluded as the pair wandered about and he said his hellos to the guests, receiving words of congratulations and other things he tuned out because he really didn’t have it in him to care. 

He had done a bit of research online after he finished his call with Lottie, looking up this ‘gender reveal’ nonsense. He audibly gagged as he scrolled through pictures of cutesy couples and tacky overuse of pink and blue in decorations and stupid (there was a legitimate shudder here) party games. Then there were the atrocious tag lines: ‘wheels or heels’, ‘ ‘staches or lashes’, ‘cupcake or stud muffin’, ‘rifles or ruffles’ (okay, that one had to be American, Louis figured, because what the fuck). He was wondering what the hell Lottie had gotten him in to.

But looking around now, Louis was quite content with the state of things. Granted, he still wasn’t thrilled that his sister wanted to throw a whole party for something that could be relayed in two seconds with a simple text message, but he could live with this.

The backyard looked like a regular weekend party, with only a few touches that hinted at an ulterior motive. There were white and gold balloons, leftovers from the twins’ birthday party Louis guessed, scattered about and tethered to objects with pink and blue string. Tables had decorations of blue glass jars with pink cut flowers placed in them, the tablecloths white with just a trim or pink or blue. In fact, the only thing even slightly tacky or ‘out there’ was a small chalkboard near the sliding door to the house where there was a running tally for guests to cast their vote for boy or a girl.

‘Boy’ was currently winning.

Louis had never really given much thought to all this, thinking of the baby as a boy or a girl; it was just, well, a baby. Not even an ‘it’. Just, a baby. Sure, he’s heard all the old wives’ tales by now — mostly from the customers he served at the cafe — but they were utter nonsense and he didn’t believe them. Because really, what did the way one slept or how a ring moved have to do with anything? He didn’t have any sort of inkling, a nagging intuition, as to what he was carrying. He didn’t even want to hazard a guess, to be honest.

Because once he thought of this thing as being a boy or a girl, it suddenly made it seem human. Real. An actual person. With wants and needs and likes and dislikes and feelings and—

“Zoning out already? We just got here.”

Louis startled back to reality to find Harry hovering at his elbow, nursing a plastic cup of something blue.

“A bit. Reality setting in and all that.” He instinctively set a hand against his stomach as he watched another guest chalk another tally for ‘Boy’ as they went to grab food. “What’d you vote for?” He nodded at the chalkboard before looking up at his friend.

Harry glanced at the board with a cocked head, as if noticing it for the first time even though he would have to have passed it to get into the house. “What do you think it is?”

Louis returned with a shrug as he ran a hand over his front, voicing his internal thoughts from only moments ago. “Dunno. Never really thought about it I guess.”

“You’re having a girl.”

“Oh, really now? Sound awfully sure about that.”

“I am.” Louis caught Harry’s a eye as he took a sip of his drink. “Scared I’m right?”

Louis rolled his eyes. “No. I told you before, it doesn’t matter. I raised half my siblings, so a girl doesn’t scare me. I always wanted a brother when I was younger and a son is the next best thing.”

“Remind me to tell Ernie this story when he’s older.”

“Oi, you!” Louis playfully shoved at the man beside him.

“But seriously though, it’s a girl. You’re carrying high, like really high —.”

“Believe me I’ve noticed,” another eye roll, “feel like I can’t breathe half the time, babe’s so tucked in there. Practicing their footie skills on my lungs they are.”

“Just wait ‘til she drops,” Harry smirked as he turned to walk away. “Personally can’t wait to see you waddling everywhere. Like a grumpy little penguin.”

“You can’t wait to see me what?!”

After everyone finished gorging themselves on his mum’s wonderful cooking, it was time for the main event. Lottie found Louis as he was still stuffing his face with the neglected corn casserole from Harry’s plate, who was in the middle of a heated conversation with Liam over... something. Louis honestly wasn’t paying attention outside of trying to be sneaky with his fork.

“Are you ready!” Lottie squealed in her brother’s ear, making him jump, the fork loudly clattering on the table. Louis suddenly felt eyes being drawn to him and he wanted to shrink down under the table from the attention.

“Take it down a couple notches, eh?” Louis continued to glance around as the chatter continued on, though he could still feel the eyes on him — the most prominent of which were Harry’s as he discovered his nearly empty plate. “You’re awfully excited for all this.”

Lottie was on her knees beside him now, her hand tentatively reaching for his stomach until he nodded, granting permission. “Of course I’m excited. It’s my little niece or nephew we’re talking about here.” She gently brushed her hand along the swell until Louis took hold of it, pressing their hands into the spot on the side where his child tended to throw their punches. “I know you’re not big on being the center of attention like this but... but try to have some fun. And it’ll be fun, I promise.”

“I did see that cake mum had stashed in the fridge. Which I suppose she’s serving after all this.” Louis smiled as the baby inside him finally wiggled hard enough to be felt. He watched as his sister’s face exploded with joy at the sensation, something even he himself wasn’t all too familiar with yet. He had been feeling the flutters for a few weeks now, but now there was the occasional thump that just couldn’t be ignored.

“So you’ll do it?”

“Of course I’ll do it. You planned all this and I can’t just... not.”

“You don’t have to. If you’re that uncomfortable with it all.”

“But I want cake more than I don’t want to do this.”

Lottie just laughed as she stood, placing a kiss on her brother’s stubbled cheek. “It’ll be fun, I promise. Come on.” Louis followed as Lottie dragged him by the hand into the house. She tossed a white shirt at him, telling him to change while she finished setting up the backyard.

He trudged up the narrow staircase, opting to change in the loo given he needed to pee anyway. After finishing his business, he tugged the grey paternity v-neck shirt off, glancing in the mirror for a moment. He looked at himself in the mirror on many an occasion as of late, watching himself inflate like a balloon. But there was something about his reflection now, in his childhood home — seeing himself like this here, of all places — that was humbling. After a few more moments of admiring himself, he tugged the white tee over his head and made his way down the stairs to find his sister.

He wandered his way outside only to be suddenly dragged across the yard by Daisy and Phoebe, each taking a hand and pulling him along until they reached where the guests had now gathered, near the fence of the property. Louis stepped forward to find a white table cloth spread out on the ground and Harry stepping down off a ladder, guided by Lottie.

After another round of ‘are you ready’ from his little sister, Louis was pushed to step out onto the cloth as Lottie grabbed the crowd’s attention. He gazed up at the plain brown box dangling above his head. It was precariously tied to a tree limb that hung over from the neighbor’s yard, thanks to Harry’s freakishly long limbs, no doubt.

“I just...?” He pointed up at the bit of rope hanging from the box.

“Yes, Yes! Pull the string!” Lottie clapped her hands as she gave a little hop, unable to contain her excitement. There were murmurs of agreement from the small gathering as well as a resounding WHOOP! from Niall. He could see Harry’s tall frame standing beside Lottie, his arms crossed as he bit his lower lip — the only person of the bunch not full of smiles or antsy with anticipation.

Louis dragged his eyes back to the task at hand. “Well, here goes nothing.” He muttered as he gave a sharp tug to the rope. Expecting the worst, he closed his eyes as he pulled downward. “What the fuck?!” He cried as he was drenched in a mass of falling debris.

Once the pieces finished falling, he opened his eyes. There were cheers from the guests as Louis looked around him, at the mess of swirling confetti and the settling glitter cloud, trying to take it all in. He was a bit confused as he looked around him, trying to figure out what exactly happened to reveal the gender, because all he could see was a giant mess.

“Um, I think you may have messed this one up, Lots,” he commented as he brushed some of the glitter out of his hair, creating another small cloud of the stuff. He’d be finding this shit on himself for weeks after this. “It’s supposed to be pink or blue and you’ve got every color of the damn rainbow going on here.”

“While I was more than happy for the opportunity to drench my big brother in glitter, I most certainly did not mess this up.” His sister gave him a smug grin. “Look at your shirt.”

Louis shot her a questioning glance before he looked down at the shirt in question. He gasped as he did a double take, a grin finding his face as he noticed that the fallen glitter and bits of paper had stuck to parts of the fabric, spelling out the words ‘It’s a girl! over and over.”

“It’s a girl!” He cried out, reading the words that were visible to everyone. He turned, looking for Harry — the man had been right, it was a girl. “You were right Haz! You were — Harry?” Louis turned in time to see the man in question slip into the house as the rest of the group came closer to congratulate Louis.

“Harry?” He whispered once more as the volume around him grew, hands clasping him on the back.


	6. Twenty-Eight

“Have you started considering names yet?”

It was a simple question that Harry posed out of the blue one night a few weeks later. They were clearing the dinner dishes off the table — rather, Louis was clearing them out of spite as Harry insisted he shouldn’t be exerting himself unnecessarily. They were just cups and plates and forks. Not thirty pound weights on the kitchen table. He was perfectly capable of lifting them off the table and walking the four steps to place them into the dishwasher.

“Sort of?” Louis replied, rubbing at his stomach as he stood up from loading the dirty plates. His little girl was extremely pleased with tonight’s dinner, wiggling away almost nonstop since he could smell the lasagna cooking in the oven when he came home. It was one of his personal favorites that Harry made, even with all the vegetables the man thought he was sneaky enough to hide beneath the layers of cheesy goodness. “I mean, there’s a few I like but I don’t know if I found ‘the one’ yet, you know? I haven’t exactly had a proper sit to really think about it and all.”

It had been over a month ago now that he found out he was having a girl. And while one would think that would narrow things down a bit — make things a bit more manageable — for Louis it was the exact opposite. After finding out the sex, reality finally slapped Louis in the face that this was a human — a real, actual, human, with a real life and a real personality, and a real, well, everything.

And that he was completely and totally responsible for.

Starting with a real, actual name.

That he had to pick.

Names were serious business what with all the stereotypes and meanings and historical trends...

Needless to say when he got home that night, after the party had finally wound down and Harry had driven him back to their flat, Louis proceeded to have a panic attack about the complexity of human life in general.

“Well, what have you got in mind so far?”

Louis raised his brow at the other man. It wasn’t that he was questioning Harry’s interest — far from it, because god knows where Louis would be right now in this pregnancy without Harry — but literally two minutes ago Harry had been chastising him for wanting to clear the table.

And now they were discussing baby names.

Ultimately, Louis shrugged his shoulders as he opened the cabinet to dig out one of the little soap pods for the dishwasher. “I don’t know, really. I mean, I kinda want something... unique, I guess. But not so utterly out there where she’s that kid with the weird name, you know?”

Harry nodded his head as he finished loading up the machine, stacking everything just so as he muttered something about how it was understandable.

“But then, at the same time, I can’t help but like some of those trendy names, you know like Olivia or some—.” There was a sudden crash of glass shattering that made Louis jump. He quickly turned toward the source of the noise, one hand over his heart, the other protectively curled around his middle.

He found Harry still standing beside the open dishwasher, his eyes wide as he stared blankly at Louis, his hand cupped in the air — the glass he had previously been holding now lay shattered on the floor at his feet.

“Harry! Are you okay?! The glass—!”

“Don’t name her Olivia.”

“What?” Louis asked as he shuffled over to the closet for a broom and dustpan.

“Do not. Name her. Olivia.” Harry gritted his teeth as he repeated his words, his eyes boring holes into Louis as he began to sweep his way toward Harry. Last thing he needed was a shard of glass in his foot right now.

“It was just an example, Haz. Didn’t say that’s what I picked. Geez.” Louis rolled his eyes. “What’s wrong with Olivia, anyway? Perfectly decent name.”

“It’s just — it’s nothing, never mind. Just drop it.” Harry shook his head as he realized what had just happened and bent over, carefully picking up some of the larger pieces as Louis continued sweeping.

They worked in silence, cleaning up the mess. But, given Louis’ nature, he never could leave well enough alone.

“Was it like a bad breakup or something? That made you hate the name?”

Harry let out a growl that caught Louis off guard, making him fumble to catch the broom before it fell to the floor.

“I said to drop it, Lou!” The taller man forcefully threw the shard of glass into the trash bin, dustpan and all, before storming out of the kitchen. “And Olivia is not fucking ‘trendy’!” Harry’s voice shouted across the flat before the door to his bedroom slammed shut.

Louis looked around at the empty kitchen for a few moments as silence engulfed the flat, trying to piece together what the hell had just happened. After a few more moments, when there was still no further noise in the flat — and it was clear Harry wasn’t coming back, Louis finished his sweeping before starting the dishwasher and dividing up the left over lasagna for their lunches tomorrow.

Sure, he knew he could be a bit of a nosy fuck every now and again, Louis knew that — hell, Harry knew that by now after all these years — but he didn’t think he was pushing matters that hard. It was just a simple question. Certainly not something that warranted Harry’s little temper tantrum.

If anyone was going to be throwing a temper tantrum in this flat, it was going to be Louis — what with all the hormones and general discomfort he was dealing with.

Then again, Harry had been a bit on edge for the last day or two, come to think of it. Perhaps something was going on at work that was irritating him and causing this unusual behavior from the usually calm and collected half of their friendship.

Regardless, Louis was certainly not speaking to Harry after this — at least, not for a little while. “Not until he apologizes,” he craned his head, speaking down to his bump as he placed a hand over the spot where the little girl was currently jabbing some limb or another into him. Harry always broke down and apologized after a few hours anyway, whenever they had any sort of disagreement. Maybe Louis could get it out of him then, just what was bothering him so much.

Harry hadn’t come to apologize by the time Louis readied himself for bed. In fact, Louis hadn9t seen hide nor hair of the tall man since their little altercation after dinner. Louis had sat out in the living room, watching a movie (giving ample opportunity for an apology to occur), but Harry didn’t come out of his room. The bathroom sat sandwiched between their respective rooms, and after he stepped out from his evening shower, he took a quick listen at Harry’s door but picked up nothing but silence. He considered knocking, but perhaps Harry had snuck out while Louis was in the bathroom, or maybe he had gone to bed early.

The next morning, there was still no sign of Harry, and still no noise from his bedroom door. Worry began to nag at Louis as he padded around the kitchen, pulling together what he needed for tea and toast — his flatmate not around to cook him something proper, and he wasn’t in the mood for his own signature breakfast options: rubber eggs or blackened-yet-undercooked pancakes.

This was extremely unlike Harry to not have broken down by now — or at the very least to have come out of his room, even if it was to ignore Louis as he made a cup of tea. Louis looked in the fridge and found Harry’s portion of last night’s leftovers still in the fridge, and a quick check by the front door confirmed Harry’s current favorite pair of boots were still there. 

The man hadn’t left early for work.

Which meant he was still in the flat, well past his usual breakfast time, and on a weekday no less.

For a moment, Louis considered checking the other man’s room, to see if he really was still home, but eventually shrugged it off. If Harry wanted to be a child and throw a tantrum and hole himself up in his room over whatever was going on, then so be it. He had his own growing child to worry about, he didn’t need to be fussing over a twenty-some year old one.

After finishing up his meager breakfast, Louis dressed himself and headed out for his mid morning cafe shift.

“It’s just so weird though. So unlike him.” Louis lamented half-way through his shift as he poured the hot water for Niall’s usual after-lunch cup of tea.

“Ah, you know our Haz. He can be sensitive sometimes.”

“I know, I know. And it’s one of the thousands things I love about the lad,” Louis ignored Niall’s remarks of ‘so ask him out already’ as he handed over the Irishman’s cup. “But to freak out like that... it’s just not normal.”

Niall blew over the top of the steaming liquid before hazarding a sip. “What were you fighting about, anyway?”

Louis threw his hands in the air. “That’s the thing! We weren’t fighting! You’ve known him since uni. Maybe you know why the hell the simple name ‘Olivia’ made him— oh, for God’s sake, Niall!”

The man in question sat at the counter coughing on his drink, eyes wide as the ceramic mug, and contents, lay broken on the tile floor at his feet. With a grumble, Louis snatched a dish towel and a dustpan and made his way around the counter.

“That’s um... that’s not a question for me to answer, Lou. No, here, wait. Let me, you shouldn’t be bending over like—.” Niall scrambled off the chair, narrowly avoiding the puddle of tea.

“Oh shush. Off with you, it’s literally my job. Don’t need you cutting yourself and demanding more free food.”

Ignoring the other man’s string of apologies, Louis continued the cleanup; pondering over what had just happened. So there was something to this Olivia business, something that rattled even Niall who was rarely ever tight lipped about anything. He returned back to his theory of a bad breakup, because what else? It had to be during uni, if Niall knew. A ruthless professor? An RA who had it out for the boy? A campus squirrel that refused Harry’s offering of food (because, yes, that’s something Harry would be hurt over if Louis knew anything about him at all)?

The remainder of his shift went off uneventfully, and before Louis knew it he was headed back to the flat. Halfway up the stairs he groaned as he considered the possibility that Harry still hadn’t caved and there was dinner to think about. Dinner that Louis would have to cook, because he was the idiot who chose a flatmate who didn’t believe in emergency frozen meals and all that was in the fridge was ingredients — not food.

“I’m sorry for blowing up at you yesterday.”

Louis let out a shriek as the disembodied voice greeted him in the dimly lit kitchen.

“Jesus, Harry,” he finally muttered after taking a moment to calm himself. When he flicked the light switch, Louis found his flatmate sitting up on the counter, his legs crossed as he leaned back into the upper cabinets. His eyes were half closed as his head lolled to the side. Harry had a bit of a habit of perching in slightly unusual places when he was a bit tipsy, but up on the counter in a dark kitchen was a first.

“It’s alright. I’m sorry to have upset you and I honestly didn’t mean it, whatever I did.” Louis was quite relieved that Harry was finally present and accounted for — even if his sobriety was questionable at four o’clock in the afternoon. A quick peek into the trash bin revealed an empty glass bottle that wasn’t there when Louis left that morning. “I take it you’ve been drinking?”

“Come. Sit.” Harry have the countertop beside him a lazy pat, ignoring the question.

Louis rolled his eyes before shaking his head as he walked over to the fridge. “You and I both know there is no way in hell my fat ass is getting up there.” He paused with a grunt as he leaned over to fish a bottle of water out from the depths of the appliance. “Where have you been, any—what the fuck?!”

The bottle of the water fell to the floor and rolled off as Louis suddenly found himself — without so much as a warning — hovering in midair, he feet dangling off the ground as strong hands gripped him beneath his arms. “You’re not fat,” Harry muttered, his voiced slurred ever so slightly, as he hoisted Louis up onto the counter with little effort. “You’re tiny. And cute. And pregnant — very, very pregnant. With a baby. A sweet little baby. But definitely not fat.”

“I am NOT tiny!”

Harry ignored the outburst as he stepped forward to stand between Louis’ legs as they dangled off the counter. He gently wrapped his arms around the smaller man, nestling his face into Louis’ neck. Harry’s voice was a muffled whine and Louis could feel lips graze the skin of his neck as Harry spoke.

“It’s a bad day, Lou.”

Louis sat frozen and Harry continued to stay wrapped around him. He had dreamed of something along this line for ages — to be wrapped up in Harry’s arms, to be held, to be able to feel breath on his neck, to run his fingers through chocolatey curls. Now that it was actually happening, he was at quite a loss for words.

Though, in Louis’ daydreams, Harry didn’t reek of tequila like he did now.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day, love.” Louis rubbed small, comforting circles along Harry’s back. “Do you... do you want to talk about it?”

Harry moved his head, though Louis was unsure of the motion until the man spoke. “No.” Sniff. “Not yet.”

“Ah, alright then. That’s okay. It’s all okay.” Louis learned his lesson from the night previous and decided not to push matters — not now, anyway. Harry had just finally come around, and Louis most certainly didn’t want to risk him running away again. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Just, hold me? Please?”

“Can do, love. Can do.” He placed a soft kiss to to top of the man’s head.

As much as something was clearly bothering Harry, and as much as Harry was clearly in pain over whatever it was, Louis was relishing this moment of closeness and was in no hurry for it to end any time soon. He continued to trace lazy circles up and down the man’s back, humming a little of this and a a little of that. When he brought his hand up and lightly ran his fingers along the hairline of Harry’s neck, Louis was rewarded with a soft moan from the face still pressed into his neck.

Louis was enjoying this way too much.

His mind began to wander as he wondered what had made Harry have a bad day. Was it related to the events of last night? Was it something at work — had he even gone in to work? If he did, he would have had to bail out early in the day, given his current tipsy status and the empty bottle in the trash. Had he been home this whole time? Did he leave to get the bottle or was it from their personal stash — which didn’t really matter, come to think as only Harry drank the tequila — Louis couldn’t stomach the stuff ever since a particular frat party at uni. For that matter, had Harry eaten anything today? Showered?

Even better question: when did Louis turn the corner and become a mother hen to care about all that stuff?

As always, all good things must come to an end. Louis had waited as long as humanly possible, shifting around where he sat on the counter until he couldn’t take it any more. “I’m sorry to ruin the moment, love, but the baby is literally sitting on my bladder and I really, really, need to wee. Like right now.”

Harry muttered an apology as he stepped back, offering a hand to help Louis down, which he gladly accepted before scurrying off as fast as his tiny legs could carry him. When he came out of the bathroom, he found that Harry had made his way over to the couch where he lay sprawled out. The intoxicated man looked up, a playful little smile on his face as Louis stepped closer. Harry lifted his arms, beckoning Louis closer.

“Harry...” Louis sighed, his hand absentmindedly resting on his front.

“Lou-eh,” came Harry’s whining voice, his arms still held out in front of him.

Louis knew that he shouldn’t. He should just walk away, back to the kitchen, and let Harry sober up a bit. He wasn’t in the proper state right now, and it would be taking advantage of him, in this situation.

But this was another moment Louis had dreamed of since the day he met his flatmate, and so before he could stop himself, he was curled up all cozy laying between Harry and the back of the couch, his head on the man’s chest, his bump nestled into and supported by Harry’s side. It was more comfortable than he ever dreamed it being — doubly so since he could rarely get comfortable at all anywhere lately.

After a few moments, Harry gently ran his hand over Louis’ protruding stomach, and Louis could feel the baby wriggle at the unfamiliar touch.

“I think she likes you,” Louis quietly chuckled. Taking the large hand in his own, Louis pressed their hands down at a spot near the top. The little girl did not disappoint, giving a hefty thump to one of her usual spots.

“That never gets old.” Glancing up, Louis found Harry with a soft smile on his face as he gazed down at their pressed hands. “She’s gonna be perfect, Lou. Just like her Daddy.”

Louis really didn’t know what to say as he tucked his head back down to hide the smile and heat creeping across his face. Silence filled the flat as they continued to lay there, Harry’s hand still resting at the spot he felt movement. The man was still clearly intoxicated to some extent, and this entire evening was clearly due to that — but Louis couldn’t help but feel a bit content with everything. This was what we wanted — what he dreamed of — for so long. Tomorrow morning things would be back to normal, but for now, Louis was enjoying this version of everything.

After another trip to the bathroom, Louis returned to Harry offering up his credit card to order delivery for dinner — and, really, who was Louis to say no to a meal he didn’t have to cook? The meal seemed to help in sobering Harry up a bit, and after a movie Louis reluctantly bid the man goodnight to shower and go to bed — it was all nice while it lasted.

When Louis entered his room after finishing his shower, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he found Harry laying on his bed. All Louis wanted was to go to bed. After a day of being on his feet and being Harry’s emotional dumpster (which he didn’t mind — honestly — but even he had his limits after a long day) all he wanted was to lay down and sleep.

“You realize this is my room, right?” Louis asked as he chucked his towel into the hamper by the closet.

“As if I didn’t see the crib,” Harry muttered as he rolled onto his back and covered his eyes with an arm. “I told you to get that grey one with the antique finish. That white looks horrible with everything else in here.”

Louis ignored the blatant jab at the crib. It was a perfectly good piece and while Harry did have a point about it clashing, it was a good price at a consignment shop Lottie had taken him to. He wasn’t about to pass up on saving where he could what with years of formula and nappies looming on the horizon.

“Come on, Harry. You need to get to bed. Your own bed.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want Harry in his bed. He did. He dreamed of it. While he was a bit sobered up, Harry still wasn’t completely in the proper state of mind. Plus, tomorrow would just be all kinds of awkward. On top of that, being this pregnant meant that not only was Louis getting up ten times in the middle of the night to pee, he felt like a whale flopping around to get comfortable each time he laid back down.

Definitely not the definition of cute or sexy or cuddly.

“Please, Lou? Let me stay, just for tonight?” Drowsiness clung to Harry’s voice as he spoke. If he fell asleep, there would be no moving him — even if Louis wasn’t six months pregnant. The man was a dead weight in his sleep, which Louis knew from experience.

Eventually Louis shrugged, giving up the fight. Not that he was really fighting it, to be honest. “Fine. Suit yourself.” He turned the lamp off and laid down — with only minimal flopping around, surprisingly — facing away from his flatmate. He tugged the sheets up, tucking himself in as he muttered a simple ‘goodnight’.

He had only just finished adjusting his pillows when he felt the mattress move, Harry shifting closer and dragging an arm over top as his body confirmed to Louis’ back.

“Harry, what—!”

“Shhh, Lou. Just wanna cuddle... a pretty boy.” Harry’s words drawled from his lips as sleep — an the remainders of alcohol — tried desperately to pull him under. He nestled his face into the back of Louis’ neck, he nose grazing skin and sending blissful chills down Louis’ spine. His voiced slowed even further as he succumbed to sleep. “ ‘S been too long, Lou... too long... love... you...”


	7. Thirty-Four

A nap. That was all Louis wanted, a nice simple nap. 

He had had the bright idea to haul his thirty-four week pregnant ass to a restaurant a few streets over for lunch, because what he really wanted — no, scratch that, what baby wanted — was some good hot chips dipped in an icy chocolate shake. It was a beautiful day, and the doctors had told him to stay up and moving, so walking the short trip seemed like a good idea.

Until he was faced with the prospect of having to walk back home. Because by then, not only was he toting around his unborn baby, but now he was sporting a food baby as well after such a delicious meal. Which was when he realized he left his damn phone on the bathroom counter again — pregnancy brain was a legit thing — and he couldn’t call an Uber to take him the short distance back. He was left to walk — no, waddle — all the way back. 

He was tired. He was sore. And all he wanted was to just put his feet up and take a fucking nap. He wanted to curl himself around that blessed magic body pillow that Harry insisted he buy (which Harry ended up buying because there was no way in hell Louis was paying fifty bucks for a pillow) that hugged and supported him in all the right ways.

He was ‘t asking for a whole lot really. Even the baby he was toting around with him and settled down for a little rest between her dance sessions.

But a certain handsome giraffe had other ideas.

“Of course I tried calling him!”

The door of the flat slammed shut, causing Louis to groan. He had just gotten comfortable — which was no small feat, mind you — and was just beginning to drift off when Harry’s deep voice boomed through the small space.

“And every single time it goes to voicemail!”

“Just chill, okay?”

Niall. Fucking Niall. Louis groaned yet again before hauling himself upright and chucking the body pillow off to the side. There would definitely be no sleeping now, what with that tiny loud leprechaun on the loose.

“Chill? How do I ‘chill’, Niall?!” Louis’ heart caught in his throat as he heard what he thought was a sob come from Harry. “I couldn’t get anywhere close to the cafe to ask there, and their phone is a constant busy signal and... and...”

He couldn’t get to the cafe? Where he should have been today if he didn’t switch shifts with someone?

“Niall, what do I do? What if something,” definitely a sob this time, “happened to him?”

His curiosity now piqued, Louis got up and slowly padded his way to the main living space, his hand rubbing small circles on his front — all the commotion had woken the little one up and Louis was back to being a dance floor and punching bag, simultaneously.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Haz,” Niall’s voice drifted from the kitchen. “Maybe he’s busy actually, you know, working? Or he took a different train. A ride-share maybe?”

“No. No, he always takes that train, that time. Unless I give him a ride.” Louis paused in the doorway to the kitchen, where he found Harry pacing in the small space on the other side of the table. “I should have given him a ride. Why didn’t I give him a ride?”

“Or he forgot his phone again,” Niall added as he rummaged through the fridge. Because of course he was. “You know the lad’s got some serious pregnancy brain fog going on.”

“How does that help!” Harry threw his hands in their air, still pacing. “So what you’re saying is he could be hurt, with no phone to call for help!”

Well, they were definitely talking about him.

“Or he could be trying to take a bloody nap for God’s sake,” he huffed from where he stood, crossing his arms as he glared at the intruders in the kitchen. “Not that it matters to either of you.

Niall’s head banged into the top of the fridge with a cry of pain as Harry, in turn, whipped around, eyes wide as he shouted Louis’ name. Before he knew what was happened for, the taller had crossed the kitchen in record time, throwing his arms around Louis, pulling him into a bone-crushing embrace. There was the constant murmur of ‘I thought I lost you’ as Harry pressed his face into Louis’ hair. 

Louis was confused. He had been here — or in the neighborhood, at the very least — all day. How could he have gotten lost? He placed small pats on his hugger’s back as he watched Niall finally extract himself from the fridge, can of soda in one hand, the other rubbing the back of his head.

“Mind telling me what’s going on here?” Louis raised a brow at Niall. He figured there was no point talking to Harry right now — the man was clearly a mess.

“Glad you’re okay, mate,” Niall smiled as he finally laid eyes on Louis — well, his head anyway, the rest of him was wrapped up and hidden by Harry’s tall frame. “There was an accident on the train line you usually take. A bad one. Some cars came off the tracks, last I heard there were already a few fatalities. We were right worried.”

Louis’ eyes widened as he glanced at the man embracing him. How did he miss this news story? Then again, he hadn’t watch much telly today, come to think of it, or checked his phone—

Shit. His phone. It was still sitting on the bathroom counter from where he had left it behind this morning. Harry must have tried calling him and texting him. But Louis didn’t even check it when he got back from his journey — opting instead for the quickest of wees and collapsing into bed for some rest.

“Oh, Haz,” Louis tried soothing the agitated beast that held him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I switched shifts with Ryan today, remember? I’ve been around here all day. Left my phone in the bathroom here when I went out for lunch. I didn’t go to work, Haz. It’s okay.”

Harry continued to mutter into Louis’ hair.

“Shh, it’s okay, love, it’s okay.” He gently unwrapped one of Harry’s hands, pulling it down to press against his stomach, for Harry to feel the movements from within. “I’m okay. Babe’s okay. It’s all okay. Calm down, love. I’d like to breathe a bit, yeah?”

As much as Louis tried to lighten the comment with a laugh, it was the truth. Bad enough he felt like he couldn’t take a deep breath anymore, what with all his organs squished together and a baby taking up valuable real estate in his small frame. But now, on top of that, it felt like Harry was hugging the stuffing out of him.

Surprisingly, Harry listened and pulled back and Louis was finally able to meet those beautiful emerald greens — now rimmed with red and brimming with unspent tears.

“I thought I lost you, Lou.” He said a bit louder as he cupped Louis’ face with one of his long slender hands, his thumb brushing Louis’ cheek. “I thought something happened to you... and I don’t know what I’d do with myself if something did... not before I could tell you...”

Before Louis could form the proper words to ask Harry what he meant, the man leaned forward, gently pressing their lips together. It took Louis a moment to get over the shock of what was happening before he began to kiss back — long, slow kisses. The kind of kiss he always imagined getting from Harry, who was always so gentle, so caring, so loving. The baby in his stomach began flipping in what felt like cartwheels, the same sensation Louis felt in his heart. Soon enough he pulled away, the kiss broken by a smile as he glanced down at his front before returning to the man before him.

Harry was smiling too, as he gazed downward. “Been wanting to do that since Liam dragged me to meet you. Insisted I needed a flatmate right out of uni instead of living on my own like I wanted.”

“The feelings mutual,” Louis fondly scrunched his face in response before tipping up on his toes to kiss Harry once more.

“Aaaand now I’m leaving. Before I see anything that’ll make me need therapy.” Niall quickly brushed past the pair on his way out of the kitchen. “Congrats, you two.”

Louis thought he also heard an ‘about time’ but he was a bit preoccupied in the moment. Once the front door softly clicked closed, they separated once more.

“So...” Harry was the first to break the silence, still grinning, his cheeks a bit pink.

“So,” Louis replied matter-of-factly. They may have finally confessed their love, but Louis refused to stop being the annoying little shit in their relationship.

“So, I was thinking maybe I could take you out? On a date. A real date.”

“A date?” Louis couldn’t help but laugh. When the taller man’s face fell, Louis backtracked to save himself. “I mean, you really want to go out with all this?” He gestured to his front.

“I really do.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Harry gave Louis’ nose a quick kiss. “We can have some fun with it. Go out somewhere we’ve never been, tell them it’s our first time meeting. See what happens.”

Louis cackled at the thought. Harry didn’t often have a dark sense of humor — but when he did, he was rather genius.


	8. Thirty-Nine and Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes talk of a medical procedure. Nothing graphic, but the character describes it in slightly-more detail.
> 
> I know some people aren’t fond of that sort of thing, so there’s your warning <3
> 
> Also I didn’t realize it but this is OMG REALLY LONG.

The worst part wasn’t knowing what was coming, it was knowing when it was coming. Because it was one thing to know what was going to happen, but it was a whole other matter watching the time count down and the panic setting in when you know it’s getting close.

Louis glanced up at the clock on the wall as he nervously passed through the living room once more, watching the second hand slowly tick away. He only had a couple minutes left and he needed to decide where he wanted to be this time. 

Couch was out of the question, he barely got up from it earlier. So was the bed, he didn’t want to risk needing to change the sheets or having to throw out his beloved comforter. The kitchen chair hadn’t exactly been pleasant (though, what about this whole experience is?), and leaning over the counter didn’t provide anything for his hands to grip onto. Maybe the table?

He checked his phone for the time and — shit, maybe a minute if he was lucky —

There it was, that twinge, the few second warning before the assault. Looks like he shaved off a good chunk of time with this one, he realized as he glanced at his phone — at the app that he had open all afternoon. He frantically looked around where he was and, well, leaning on the back of the couch would have to do. He’d never make it anywhere else in time and he didn’t exactly want to weather this in the open without anything to brace himself with.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he bent over, resting his head against the plush backing as his hands clawed at the smooth fabric. A soft, breathy moan hummed from his throat as he breathed his way through the uncomfortable sensation — it wasn’t terribly painful yet, more of an uncomfortable feeling in his back that stretched down under his stomach. He was too focused on his breathing to hear the jingle of keys, the creak of the door.

“Hey, Lou! Meeting let out early — oh god, Louis!”

His concentration now broken, Louis groaned as he shifted his hips a bit. Leave it to Harry to have perfect timing and walk in at the worst possible moment. There was a slam of the door followed by the sharp sound of boots against floor, then a warm hand on his back, Harry’s worried voice by his ear.

“Louis! What’s wrong? What is it? Is it the baby?” The hand rubbed upwards, fingers brushing at Louis’ hair. “Lou, please. Please talk to me.”

“Hold on, damn.” Louis gritted his teeth. It was almost over. Almost. Longest thirty-some seconds of his life. Well, until the next one at least. After a few more seconds, it finally subsided and he gave a few short gasps, not realizing he had been holding his breath.

“Louis, please.” Harry softly whined.

Louis turned his head finally, to see Harry leaned over beside him, his face covered in worry, maybe even a tear perching in the corner of his eye. He smiled as he slowly got back up. “It’s okay, Haz. I’m okay.”

“You don’t — you didn’t look okay.”

“I am. I’m okay.” Louis repeated as he turned around to rest his bum against the couch, the relief of (temporarily) being pain free washing over him. He tapped a few buttons on the app in his phone as he rested the other on the top of his extended stomach. He met Harry’s eyes, face still scrunched in worry. “However, general consensus seems to be that I’m in labor.”

“What!” Harry’s hands flew to his hair, the look of worry suddenly gone, now replaced with panic. His eyes darted about the room before finally falling on Louis’ stomach. “You’re what! Louis! Why didn’t you call me?! You need — we need — did you call — oh god, why didn’t you call me!”

Louis had almost called, honestly. Because he had been freaking out this afternoon, when he finally put the pieces together.

They started right after he had finished clearing the breakfast dishes, a couple hours after Harry had left for work — though he didn’t realize it until he looked back on it all later. His empty mug from tea clattered into the sink as he let go of it, the sensation taking his breath away. It finished as abruptly as it started and after a moment of panic, Louis convinced himself it was nothing. He carried on with the rest of his morning, waddling about the flat and caving into the last bits of his nesting instincts while watching something on Netflix.

It happened again as he sat down on the armchair after a trip to the bathroom, and again a bit later while he was prepping his mid morning cup of tea (from his secret stash as Louis was sure Harry was rationing the tea bags to limit his tea consumption; naive, naive little Harry...). There was one while on, yet another, bathroom trip, and one as he sat on his bed while organizing the tiny outfits that took up one of the drawers in his dresser.

No, it wasn’t until the one that hit as he waddled from the front door to the kitchen to enjoy his just-arrived lunch that Louis knew there was something else going on. He leaned his shoulder against the wall — barely saving his lunch from hitting the floor — as he rode out the feeling that now had a hint of pain to it. Nothing terrible, but it was definitely more than just uncomfortable. When it ended he finally panicked, rushing the remainder of the way to the kitchen and fumbling for his phone (after safely placing his meal down, thank you) and dialing the nurse line.

“Seriously? You’re serious.” Louis paced around the small kitchen, snagging a chip with each lap. After relaying what had happened to a nurse he had been patched through to the doctor herself, who had confidently informed him of her diagnosis.

“I’m as serious as your contractions, Mr. Tomlinson. Your baby is coming.”

Well, fuck. If he wasn’t panicking before, he definitely was now. It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen this coming — this whole pregnancy thing could only end one way at this point — it was that it was actually happening right the fuck now with him by himself and Harry at work in a meeting he couldn’t miss.

“How—how much—how long will it take?” He nervously picked at the lettuce poking out of his chicken wrap.

“Babies get here when they want to get here. Could be six hours could be a day.” Louis tried to figure out how many hours he had spent already. “I once had a woman labor for thirty four hours, mind you.”

Louis’ eyes widened. As much as he loved his doctor, she wasn’t exactly helping to ease his anxiety in this moment.

Sensing the silence was indeed Louis beginning to panic, his doctor continued. “But I assure you, labors like that rarely ever happen.” There was a shuffling on the other end of the line. Louis was only slightly assured, if he was being honest. “Now, what I want you to do, besides monitor your contractions, is take it easy. Rest while you can. Eat and drink now because you won’t be able to later. I’m going to send you back over to the nurse so she can give you some more details. I or one of my nurses will check in on you in a few hours, okay?”

“Okay,” Louis nodded his head, though no one could see him.

The nurse he was switched to was nothing if not thorough, rattling off information left and right. Louis wished Harry was there to take the call, he was always better with this sort of thing.

Back in the present, Louis tapped at his phone, recording the details of the last few minutes in the tracking app the nurse had recommend. “Chill, love. It only started a few hours ago. And, yes, I called the doctor’s. Who said to stay home until the contractions are about six minutes apart or until my water breaks, whatever comes first. And currently,” he turned the phone to his flatmate-turned-boyfriend, “I’m at about twelve-ish minutes and have yet to look like I pissed myself. We’ve got time. You, however, have been home a whole two minutes and haven’t given me a single kiss.”

He made a show of puckering his lips and making grabby hands at his panicking giraffe of a boyfriend, who finally cracked a smile upon seeing his needy Louis. After granting Louis the kiss he desired (with a bit more tongue than was probably needed, but Louis wasn’t complaining), Harry pulled Louis up and into a crushing hug, burying his face in Louis’s neck.

After a moment, Louis chuckled, patting the tall man on the back. “Forget this labor nonsense. I’ll just have you squeeze her out.”

Harry suddenly scrambled back with a flinch, untangling himself from Louis, panic back on his face. Well, looks like joking to lighten the mood is out of the question for now.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay? I didn’t mean — I’d never —.” Harry stumbled over his words, genuine fear in his eyes.

Louis sighed as he took a step toward the other man, placing his small hands on Harry’s waist. “I was just joking, Haz. I know you’d never hurt us. You couldn’t hurt a fly, baby.”

This time, Harry didn’t match the smile Louis gave. He continued to stare down fearfully at the shorter, his adam’s apple bobbing before he spoke. “You should, um, sit down. Rest. Yeah, sit down.”

Louis let the tall man tug him toward the couch and he didn’t protest as Harry gently gripped him by the elbows and set him down. Firstly, because Harry was home to help haul his ass out of the suctioning seat. Secondly, because after years of living with this man Louis knew the best and fastest way to calm Harry down in these moments was to play along for a bit.

“Go change,” Louis nudged the other with his leg after they sat for a bit in silence, Harry fidgeting enough for the both of them. “You literally just ran in the door from work. Take a shower, put on something comfort — son of a fuck!”

Harry jumped at the sudden outburst as Louis blindly fumbled for the large hand with his eyes scrunched shut. There was no twinge this time, no warning, just sudden tight pain that caught him off guard — there was actual pain this time (a little more than before, but it was still pain and, well, fuck it hurt), not just the uncomfortable sensation he had been familiar with.

At least he remembered to breathe this time, though he wasn’t sure how much it helped. As it subsided, he took a couple deep breaths and finally opened his eyes — only to see a pale-faced Harry hovering over him, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“It’s okay. It’s over, Haz.” Louis gave a weak smile before he tapped at his phone once more. A large hand cupped his cheek and Louis looked up to see a single tear trail down Harry’s cheek. 

“How are you so calm?” Harry’s voice was a whisper.

Louis chuckled. “I’ll be fine until we get to the hospital, then I’ll start freaking the fuck out because then it’s actually real. The better question is why are you freaking out? You’re the one who’s had experience with this sort of thing out of the two of us.”

“No, I don’t!” Harry suddenly snapped, pulling away and dragging a hand through his hair yet again. It was getting a bit wild now, from the constant tugging. “I never went — he never went into labor, Lou! My friend he, he went in for a thirty-six week check-up and ended up needing an emergency cesarian because the baby’s heart rate was low. Like, scary low. I don’t know anything about this.” He broadly gestured to Louis’ form on the couch. 

Louis thought his heart stopped for a moment. “But... but it was okay, yeah? Nothing happened to the baby?” He squeaked.

“Yeah, yeah they’re fine. Both came out perfectly healthy.” Harry returned to his spot next to Louis on the couch, pulling the smaller close. “The uh... the baby turned at some point. Cord got wrapped around... but they’re fine. It got caught in time and both were fine. They’re fine. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Louis mumbled something along an ‘alright’ as he snuggled into Harry’s side. They sat that way for awhile, Louis enduring a few more contractions and Harry providing a hand to squeeze and a warm comforting embrace that the pregnant man greatly appreciated. After having Harry haul him up from where he sat to run to the loo, Louis nudged Harry toward his room to finally change and put things away.

The evening continued on much the same, Louis curled up on the couch as Harry provided comfort while trying not to freak out. They ordered Chinese to be delivered for dinner, Louis took a couple calls from the doctor’s office as they checked in, and Harry sent an email to his boss saying he wouldn’t be in the next day. Harry trailed closely behind wherever Louis went, like a lost little puppy. It was cute, for now.

Finally, the pair decided to call it a night, for Louis to get a bit of sleep while he still could. After Louis swore up, down, left, right, and six ways to Sunday to shout if anything (anything) happened, Harry parted ways to take a shower while Louis made himself comfortable in Harry’s bed.

“You hate sleeping in my bed,” Harry stated as he grabbed a pair of pants out of a drawer.

“I wouldn’t say ‘hate’.” Louis fluffed at one of the twenty pillows Harry had staged on the mattress he rarely slept on in the last two months. “I just like my duvet more than I dislike your excessively firm mattress. Besides, all your stuff is washable. I don’t want to know how much it’ll cost to dry clean that blanket of mine. Then it’ll never be the same again...”

Harry just shook his head with a smile as he finished dressing before flicking off the light and crawling into bed, spooning into Louis’ back. They exchanged kisses and ‘I love you’s as they cuddled together, Harry’s arm lightly draped over Louis’s belly, their fingers intertwined.

Soon, Louis could feel Harry’s breaths even out against the top of his head, and sleep began to prick at his own eyes. As he let out a yawn, he felt it and his eyes shot open. He shifted around a bit and he could feel it, the wet warmth spreading.

“Harry,” he whined, pinching his eyes shut. Why. Why now. Why not ten minutes ago before they had gone to sleep? This wasn’t fair.

“Harry, wake up,” he whined a little louder, nudging the man with his elbow. Finally he could feel him begin to stir.

“Hm, yeah?” Harry asked, his voice slurred with sleep as he nuzzled his face further into Louis’ hair.

“Harry, my water broke.”

—  
“‘M scared.” Louis whispered after the doctor left the room. It was morning now, early morning — well, early for Louis; including today he could probably count on one hand the times he was awake at the tender hour of six a.m. He was wide awake, unable to sleep the majority of the night as he lay in the uncomfortable hospital bed. Never again would he complain about Harry’s mattress — it was a proper fluffy cloud compared to this thing.

“It’s nothing to worry about.” Harry took Louis’ hand and gave it a squeeze as he sat on the edge of the hospital bed. He hadn’t got much sleep either, staying awake to help Louis work through the pain until the man came in with the blessed epidural.

Then they were both awake after unexpected developments shortly after.

“It’s nothing to panic about just yet, but we’re definitely going to keep an eye on this.” The on-call doctor — an older man who looked like he ought to have retired a half century ago — said as he watched one of the screens Louis was hooked up to.

He could no longer feel the pain (sweet, sweet pain killers; he’d sing their praises for the rest of his days), but he could still feel the tightening from each contraction. And each time he felt the muscles begin to tighten his eyes would dart up to the small screen and watch the number of his daughter’s heart rate drop, only to pick back up when the contraction ended. He silently willed the number not to drop too much, so that the alarm didn’t sound for a nurse to come rushing in. And most of the time it didn’t.

But every now and again, it did — only for a blip, enough to trigger the alarm, returning to a more acceptable number by time someone rushed in.

Eventually he realized Harry was awake as well, nervously watching that same screen from where he lay on the small couch against the wall. By time his normal doctor had come in for her shift, Harry had made his way to the bed to lay beside Louis, his long legs dangling off the edge as he contorted his body to lay without disrupting any of the wires. 

“A little bit of change in heart rate can be expected, she is being forcibly evicted and all,” Louis’ doctor spoke as she eyed a small tablet in her hands, evaluating the last few hours of fetal heart rates. “However, it’s those sudden dips that have me concerned. It’s not each time, so that’s good. But it’s still too often for my liking.”

And that was how Louis found himself with a growling stomach, fending off a panic attack at eight in the goddamn morning as he waited for an operating room to be prepped.

“Nothing to worry about!” Louis mocked the other man’s drawling voice. “It’s plenty to worry about! It’s surgery, Harry! Real surgery with real knives and really fucking cutting me open!”

“Technically they use scalpels, not knives...”

Louis groaned, he did not need Harry’s literal thinking right now. “The point is, I didn’t plan for surgery. I planned for a regular, normal delivery. I have no idea what to expect, what the recovery is like, nothing!”

“Calm down, Lou. Worrying isn’t going to help you or the baby right now.” Harry gently ran his free hand across Louis stomach, in a gentle stroke. “Besides, hundreds of beautiful babies are born every day via cesarean. It’s going to be okay.”

Louis let out a sigh before taking a deep breath. Harry was right, he needed to calm down, to relax, for the sake of his daughter if not himself. He focused on Harry’s gentle touch across his stomach and the writhing he could feel from within. He pictured himself holding that little girl, that that was what mattered — not how she got here, but that she got here safely and in his arms.

“You get all the baby with none of the pushing.”

Louis was pulled out of his meditative state by Harry’s soft voice. There was a dreamy quality to it, as if he were recalling an old memory.

“Harry, what are you talking about?” He asked, genuinely confused by Harry’s words.

The other man looked up for a moment, his green eyes wandering over Louis’ face as if he were contemplating something — the answer to which was found as he met Louis’ blue gaze. Harry pressed his lips into a thin line as he glanced down to where his hand had stopped moving and now hovered just above the blanket.

“Harry?”

“They’ll make a cut, about this big, right here.” Harry gave a small sigh, his finger tracing a small line across Louis’ front. “You won’t feel a thing, you’ll—.”

“Harry, what are you—.”

“Please, Lou. Let me — let me finish.” Harry’s eyes darted up for a moment. When he resumed, tracing the line once more, his voice gave a soft crack. “You won’t feel a thing because you’ll be numb from the neck down, and you can’t see anything either as there’ll be a sheet between you and the doctors working. You’ll feel a soft pressure as the doctor cuts in, a jostling sort of feeling that’s weird as hell as he or she moves things around to make room for the next cut, then a heavier sensation as the doctor pulls her out, but no pain. You’ll be awake and alert the whole time, and you’ll be able to hear that precious little cry as she comes into this world.

“There is one thing that you’ll feel, though, and that’s this all consuming overwhelming joy when you hear that cry. Because that’s your daughter, you made her and that’s a beautiful little piece of you. And once a nurse cleans her up a bit, they’ll bring her around the makeshift curtain so you can see her and nuzzle her gorgeous little face, tell her how beautiful she is, give her a quick kiss, tell her... tell her how much you love her.”

Harry quickly swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, his voice continuing to crack as he spoke, still keeping his eyes away from Louis’.

“Then comes the horrible part where they take her away as the doctors finish putting you back together and stitch you up. It’s not bad at first, you’re riding that high of finally seeing what you’ve been carrying all this time. But then you get rolled into a recovery room for all the numbing drugs to wear off. If you’re lucky, you’ll doze off as you wait. If not, you’ll spend the time desperately longing to hold your baby — you’ll want it so bad it hurts — but they won’t let you until you fully shake off the anesthesia.

“Once you make it through the longest wait of your life, they’ll bring you back to a regular room — maybe even this same one. Then they’ll bring in this little cart and there will be your little princess, wrapped up all cozy in a blanket. A nurse will hand her to you, remind you to support her head, and you can finally hold your precious little girl, take in that fresh newborn smell and give her all the snuggles and kisses you can possibly give her.”

As he finished, Harry quickly turned away, a soft sob escaping his lips. Louis was speechless after everything Harry had said, after how he had said it all.

“Harry... how—?”

“Alright, Mr. Tomlinson! Are we ready to have a baby?” A nurse’s cheery voice filled the small room, cutting Louis off. “Your partner can come in the operating room too, though he’ll need to change into some scrubs while you’re being prepped.”

Harry stood up from the bed, but kept his back turned as he took what sounded like deep, shaky breaths.

“I, um... yeah. ‘M ready. Harry,” Louis leaned forward to reach the other’s hand, giving it a small tug. “You gonna — I mean, you want to come?”

Harry was quick to respond, turning around in a flash, eyes wide and filled with tears. “No. No, I can’t do that again. I’m sorry, Lou, but I can’t go back in there. Even if I’m not... not the one...” he trailed off for a moment before pressing a kiss to Louis’ lips. “You’re strong, you’ve got this. I love you so much. Go meet your little girl. I’ll be here when you get back, I promise.”

“No, Haz. Our girl.” Louis brushed a hand along Harry’s jaw. They had never really talked about it, but Louis had no issues with Harry being an integral part of this baby’s life — long before that first kiss.

“Ours.” Harry grinned — a real smile that was a welcome sight given the pain that had been etched into the man’s face. He gave Louis one last quick kiss as the nurse began to roll the bed out the room. They shared a small wave before the bed turned a corner, leaving Harry behind.

The nurse behind him was chattering on about something, but Louis wasn’t listening. His mind lingered on what had just expired in that small hospital room, on what Harry had said, how he had said it — the emotions that traveled across his face and through his words as he spoke. He kept thinking about it, analyzing it as he was wheeled into pre-op. One word played over and over as he was prepped and taken into the operating room. Again.

Again.

What did Harry mean, again.

x-x

The whole thing was just as Harry had described, almost disturbingly so.

There was no pain. A curtain blocked his view as he felt pressure when the doctor began her work. Carly, a first year resident — as she had proudly introduced herself — sat on a stool near his head, dictating to him in simple terms what the surgeon was doing as she worked, after Louis had asked out of curiosity.

He felt an unbelievable amount of joy when he finally heard that tiny cry after a hefty push to his abdomen, the doctor declaring the baby a girl and announcing her time of birth. Tears began to form as the little girl continued on, filling the room with her loud cries. The resident dabbed a tissue at the corners of his eyes, commenting on how beautiful his girl was.

And she was right. Finally — finally — a nurse brought the baby around, loosely swaddled, her face scrunched in displeasure from being so rudely ejected from her cozy home. Louis couldn’t help but smile, the face reminding him of Harry. He so badly wanted to be able to move his arm and brush his thumb along her little cheek, to feel her tiny hand wrap around his finger. He had no idea it was possible to love something so immediately, but he was absolutely and utterly in love. The nurse brought the baby closer and he was able to kiss her head and tell her that she was perfect and he already loved her so much.

He cried when the nurse took her away, knowing he had a long wait ahead of him before he could see her again — though he mentally thanked Harry for warning him of that fact, though it didn’t do much to ease the pain.

He wasn’t lucky enough to doze off in the recovery room. While stuck awake, he tried to occupy his mind and keep it away from thinking about that little girl who was somewhere in this big hospital and who wanted her daddy right now. As he lay there, he thought back over the last few months of his life. He found puzzle pieces in his memories that began to fit together, the more he thought about them the more one specific question raised up in his mind. Everything pointed to it, and Louis was sure he knew that had to be the answer by time he recovered enough to return to a regular room — but he needed to hear it from Harry.

However, Harry wasn’t in the room when Louis returned. He was a bit disappointed, if he was honest, because, well, Harry had promised. And Harry was always good about his promises.

Louis didn’t have much time to be miffed about his boyfriend’s absence. His mood instantly changed as a nurse came in, wheeling in a small plastic tray. His heart surged from his chest as his eyes landed on the tiny bundle sporting a soft pink hat, large blue eyes blinking in confusion at the world around her. She fit perfectly in his arm as the nurse gently set her down before leaving the father and daughter be. Her eyes closed, now content with being held. Louis stared down at her in amazement as he finally fed his desire of brushing a thumb over her cheek. He couldn’t believe this was his, this perfect little girl. There was a small pang of sadness, knowing what’s-his-face would be missing out on his daughter — but it was his loss, and that meant more for Louis to enjoy and to love.

Harry still hadn’t shown up when the nurse returned with a bottle for Louis to feed the little girl. He still wasn’t there as he settled the air from her stomach and the nurse convinced him to set the baby back down in the plastic tray and to get some rest — he just had surgery and he had her whole life to hold her, after all. The last thing Louis saw as he drifted off to sleep was the gentle rise and fall of the swaddled blanket as his daughter peacefully slept within arm’s reach.

He wasn’t sure how long he had dozed off for when a familiar slow drawl stirred him from his sleep.

“Hey, there. You are so beautiful, sweetheart. Yes you are. So precious.”

There were soft footsteps, of boots tapping against the tile floor beside the hospital bed. “You look so much like her, you know. God, it’s scary. But in a cute way.”

Louis opened his eyes a bit to see the tall form of Harry standing near the foot of the bed, holding the small bundle that was Louis’ newborn daughter in his arms. He was smiling down at the little girl as he gently rocked side to side.

“Your daddy has no idea how lucky he is to have you, you beautiful little angel.” Louis felt his heart melt as he watched Harry gently take hold of the infant’s tiny hand, pressing a soft kiss to her little fingers. “No idea.”

He looked better now, more composed than the last time Louis had seen him a few hours ago as he had been wheeled away. Though there was still a bit of something still etched into his features — a sort of tiredness, a bit of sadness maybe, but definitely something.

“Haz?” Louis whispered so as not to startle the man holding his child so far above the hard tile floor.

“Look! Daddy’s awake! Yay!” Harry feigned a soft gasp as he whispered to the girl in his arms before turning his attention to Louis. “I hope it’s okay that I, you know, picked her up.”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I dunno. She’s yours, it’s only right to ask first. She wasn’t fussing or anything, I just wanted to hold her.”

“Don’t be silly, she’s — ow! — yours too.” Louis winced as he tried to laugh, a sharp pain stabbing him in his abdomen.

“Careful,” Harry smirked. “Laughing is going to hurt for awhile. And coughing. And sneezing — god, sneezing is the worst.”

“Harry.” Louis paused. He needed to pose this question as carefully as possible, to lead into the question Louis really wanted the answer to without scaring the man he loved away. “How do you know all this? Just, the way you talked earlier, and now this...”

Harry nervously glanced up for a moment before completely ignoring the question, returning his focus to the baby in his arms. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here before. I know I promised. It was just, at the last minute I decided to run home for something and then the traffic was horrible trying to get back here and—.”

“Harry. You’re avoiding the topic again.”

The man in question bit his lip as he stared at the baby, a sign that Louis had come to learn meant that was Harry seriously contemplating something.

“It’s... it’s complicated, Lou.”

“Please, Harry. I love you and I just want to understand. Whatever it is.”

After a moment, Harry sighed as he reluctantly passed the baby to Louis, keeping his gaze lowered. “You’re lucky you’re cute. The both of you.”

Louis stayed quiet as he watched Harry’s long fingers undo the button of his black jeans and tug them down a bit in the front. Those same hands hiked up his shirt, revealing old stretch marks over now-taut skin as well as a long pink scar that Louis somehow knew would be very similar to the one he would have, once his incision healed.

“I’ve been where you are.”

Louis stared at the man in front of him, baring his scars — literally. “You had a baby.” His voice was a whisper as he realized what he had been wondering this whole time was actually true.

The more Louis had thought about it, the more things made sense. All the ways Harry had supported him through this pregnancy, always knowing what Louis needed and always having the answers to Louis’s problems. The reassurances Harry was able to give, how he was calm about everything. Why he worked at a maternity clothing store in uni. Why he was so invested in all Louis was going through. The pregnant friend Harry had never mentioned before any of this happened — who, come to think of it, never even had a name.

Why Harry didn’t want to go into surgery with him.

There were other revelations too, now that Louis had the evidence right in front of him. Why Harry never walked around without a shirt — there had been plenty of times Louis himself had roamed with just boxers on his lower half. Why he never changed in front of Louis, he always left the room even after they had finally gotten together as a couple — and on that note, why the room was dark during their intimate moments, or he ‘forgot’ to take off his shirt.

“Yeah,” Harry muttered as he fixed his clothes back into place and sat down on the bed. “I just, I was trying so hard to forget about it you know? Move on — what was done was done. And I was doing good: finished uni, moved away from the memories, got a great flatmate, began to feel like maybe I could love someone again for the first time since everything. Then you came home that day and said you were pregnant...”

“I’m so sorry, Haz. I had no idea.”

“No.” Harry’s head suddenly turned, his eyes meeting Louis’ as he pointed a finger directly at the man. “Don’t ever be sorry for this little girl, ever, you understand me?”

Louis quickly nodded. 

After a moment of silence, Louis asked his next question, stemming from that one night, a heated argument after dinner. “And you named her Olivia?”

Harry nodded, running a hand through his hair. He was back to blankly staring at the floor. “That was the name I gave her, the few hours she was mine. I loved that name. Just like I loved her.” His voice cracked as he confessed his love for the baby that was his. He pulled his phone from his pocket and began to tap at it. “I don’t know what name her new parents officially gave her — I gave her up. For adoption. Wonderful couple, nurse and school teacher. She’ll have a good life. A great life. Better than what I could have given her at the time.”

Louis glanced down at the little girl in his arms, blissfully sleeping away, completely unaware of the world outside of her father’s arms. He gently brushed a thumb over her soft cheek, the babe making a soft noise of content at his touch. He could never in a million years imagine giving her up, giving her away to a stranger; though, he was sure Harry must have had his reasons. There was a pang in his chest as he tried to understand the pain Harry was feeling, had felt this whole time — the pain Louis had made resurface by being so careless.

“Here.” Harry’s low voice pulled Louis’s focus back, a phone screen sliding into his field of vision. On it was a picture of a very young — a very pregnant — Harry in a public bathroom, grinning as he took the mirror selfie. “You can swipe through, there’s a whole album. Beginning’s a bit cringe-y though.”

Louis looked between Harry’s outstretched hand and the baby in his arms. “Trade?” He offered.

“I, um... I don’t... are you sure?”

“You were literally just holding her. I trust you even more now than I did ten minutes ago, and back then I trusted your giant giraffe arse to hold my child ten meters off the damn tile floor.”

“Okay.” Harry softly laughed as he set the phone down and accepted the baby, tucking her back into the crook of his arm as he took hold of her little hand once more. He glanced up for a moment, nervousness playing on his features. “I’ve never shown anyone those pictures.”

“I’m honored.” Louis gave a quick grin before beginning to look through the phone’s pictures. Harry was right, the first couple dozen or so pictures were certainly cringe-worthy photos of a young Harry with shoulder-length hair taking mirror selfies showing off his bump. “How old were you? You look so young. And that hair! Not that I’m judging you.”

Harry laughed, the first genuine laugh Louis had heard all day and it brought a smile to his face. “The hair was a phase, so judge away. I was nineteen then, turned twenty a couple weeks before she was born. I thought I had everything going for me. I was an adult, living my adult life in my first year of uni, and thought I had found the love of my life. My soulmate.”

Louis tried to mask the pain as he laughed at a picture of Harry with his tongue out, flashing a peace sign as he lay on an exam table, his long hair wound into a bun on each side of his head.

“Some soulmate he was. I told him about the baby during summer holidays. Come back in the fall to find that the bastard — oops, sorry, not in front of the baby — I mean, that idiot transferred out. I still have no idea where he is, all these years later. It’s like he fell off the face of the earth or something.”

Louis gave a quiet ‘aww’ as he swiped to the next picture. It was an intimate moment, clearly captured by another person. Harry was sat back on a hospital bed, his hair pulled up into a single messy bun at the top of his head. He smiled wide at the loosely bundled infant nestled into the crook of his arm, tiny fingers wrapped around the thumb of his other hand.

A glance up revealed a similar scene as Harry sat at the edge of Louis’ hospital bed — only it was Louis’ daughter cradled in the man’s arms. He smiled at the infant, holding her tiny hand as she slept.

“Being pregnant when you’re a man isn’t highly regarded. You know that. But being a pregnant man while living in the male dormitory at uni? That was a whole other level of hell, even with as great of a roommate that I had. Niall saw me through many a crying session that year — he’s a saint, that one.”

The next picture was similar, but Harry had bent over to kiss the babe’s tiny head. In the next, he was looking up at whoever held the camera, his eyes red, cheeks wet with tears, but a look of sheer joy and amazement covered his face. “She’s beautiful, Harry,” Louis whispered in awe as he swiped yet again.

The bed shifted as Harry scooted closer and leaned over to see where Louis was in the photo gallery. “That’s my favorite, of all of them.” Harry smiled as he took in the image on the screen. Louis was quite partial to it as well. In the photo, Harry had regained control of the camera and laid the baby, Olivia, in his lap. A tiny smile graced her lips, her hand latched around one of Harry’s slender fingers. “That little smile still kills me, all these years later.”

Louis paused for a moment, wondering how far was too far. Harry was clearly opening up right now, and Louis was thankful to finally have answers. But he still wanted to know more.

“How um...” Louis cleared his throat, taking the risk. “How long ago... did you have her?”

Harry’s gaze returned to the child in his arms for a moment. “About five years ago now. I was twenty, remember?”

“Right, right.” Louis smiled, recalling that particular bit of information. He had finished looking through the pictures, handing the device back to Harry who set it down on the bed to instead make a (in Louis’ humble opinion) cute look of surprise at the little girl he was holding, who let out a yawn. “Do you keep in touch with them or anything? The parents? I mean, I don’t really know how adoption works or anything...”

Louis trailed off as Harry’s face fell, his eyes drifting off back to the floor. “Not... not really. I mean, I was supposed to. I did an open adoption and all. They, the mums, kept sending me emails with pictures and stuff and... and I ignored them. I just... it hurt too much. Eventually I just deleted that email address because I couldn’t take it, logging in and seeing those emails there. Now, though, I wish I never did. I wish I could have seen her grow up, you know? Maybe meet her or something, if her mums wanted me to.”

Tiny whimpers pierced the air in that moment of silence, making Louis jump.

“Here.” Harry gently passed the fussing infant back to Louis. “I think she’s gotten tired of me and wants her daddy back.”

“Oh now, don’t say that,” Louis playfully scolded, though his little girl did quiet down a few moments after the exchange.

The room stayed quiet for a few moments, both men admiring the infant, each in their own way.

“Lou.” It was Harry who broke the silence of the moment. “I don’t... I don’t want you to think I’m like, using you or anything.”

“What? I would never! Why in the world—.”

“I dunno.” Harry’s voice was soft as he confessed. “Because I had a baby and couldn’t keep her and now you have a baby and just... I don’t want you to think I’m using your daughter to replace my own.”

“I repeat, Harold: I would never think such a thing.”

“What’s her name, anyway? You never said.”

“Well, considering the last time the topic was brought up, you went storming off...”

Harry rolled his eyes, to which Louis laughed (and winced yet again at the pain).

“Harry Edward Styles, I’d like you to meet Ms. Piper Tomlinson.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only an epilogue left! To come in the next day or so once I edit it. I wanted to get the main story up.
> 
> While you’re waiting for it, go dig out a box of tissues or secure a soundproof room in case of happy tears or epic squealing for what happens in the epilogue ;)
> 
> BONUS FUN FACT: I wrote this whole fic and didn’t realize until JUST NOW that I did not give Louis’ daughter a name! I threw in the last couple lines off the top of my head, becAUSE SERIOUSLY HOW DO I FORGET TO NAME THE KID WTF


	9. Epilogue

_**A year and a half later**_...

“Lovely party, Lou. Thank you.” Harry suddenly appeared at Louis’ side, placing a kiss on his cheek.

There was a decent crowd of people around them in the large room, all having come out to celebrate Harry’s birthday. It was a small affair held after hours in the cafe Louis still worked at part time, filled with their respective families and friends. Louis had single-handedly planned and pulled the whole party together to cover up an ulterior motive he had — something he had been trying to figure out how to do for months now, and a party seemed a perfect solution.

Well, he may have had a bit of help from Lottie. She was the social butterfly of the family, after all.

“Anything for you, baby.”

“Baby!”

The pair chuckled at the squeal of laughter from the child Louis held on his hip, her bright blue eyes sparkling as she giggled.

“Yes! You’re daddy’s baby, too. My sweet little princess you are.” Louis pressed his nose to his daughter’s, eliciting another giggle of delight. As much as Louis had tried to avoid the boy vs girl stereotypes, his little girl still managed to turn out to be all flowers and frilly dresses and an explosion of pink. All of which Harry was very much on board with — thank goodness — because while Louis absolutely loved his child, tea parties and dress-up just were not his thing.

The current Peppa Pig phase, however, he could do.

Harry grinned as he gave the girl a quick tickle to her tummy and a kiss to her cheek before turning back to Louis. “Not that I’m being greedy or anything, but where’s your gift to me, Hmm? Or do I get it,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “later?”

“Oi! Get your brain out of the gutter.” Louis cackled as he began to walk across the room. “Besides, what’s wrong with the four rings I already gave you? Not good enough?” From the corner of his eye, Louis could see the man admire the pieces of jewelry on his fingers.

“Of course they’re good enough. I love every single one of them.”

It was no secret that Harry had a fondness for statement pieces of jewelry. So when the time had come that Louis decided to propose, he made a scavenger hunt — each clue leading to another place, with another ring, the final one leading Harry straight to Louis and a large cut diamond.

“But that was weeks ago! My birthday is now!”

It was all Louis could do suppress a groan as they kept walking. He knew Harry was purposely being a prat right now, just to egg Louis on because he was the birthday boy. The whole party had gone straight to the man’s head.

“I mean, it’ll be hard to beat your mum’s gift, but you can certainly try.”

His mum had gifted Harry a five pound tub of her spinach dip — to which Harry cried with joy as he hugged the container to his chest, while the onlookers openly laughed. Not to pat himself on the back beforehand, but Louis knew for a fact that his present to Harry would out-shine even a ten-gallon barrel of spinach dip. He just needed to find where it was.

“It’s a two parter really. You’ll get half later tonight,” Louis spoke as his eyes wandered the room, “and the other half should be... Ah, here we go.”

Louis stopped just short of one of the small groups of people still remaining, as he found the two people he had been looking for. The pair in question turned around, smiles finding their faces as their eyes landed on Louis, then beaming as their gazes moved to Harry.

“Harry, you remember Carol and Linda?” Louis motioned to the couple with his free hand.

“Yes?” Harry quickly glanced at Louis. “I mean yes! Yes of course! You and Lou um... the names ring a bell...”

“Oh, I can’t take it anymore! Come here, you!” The shorter of the two women, Linda, suddenly lunged toward Harry, wrapping him in a tight embrace, her head barely coming up to his chest as she squeezed the tall man. Louis tried to contain his laughter as Harry awkwardly patted the woman on the back, unsure of what to do as his eyes silently pleaded for help.

“Sorry. She’s a hugger. Always has been.” The other woman, Carol, shook her head as she smiled.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. So is Harry.” Louis waves off the woman’s concerns. “Usually, anyway. He’s just a bit lost right now, I didn’t tell him you guys were coming.”

Finally, Linda released Harry from her grip and rejoined her partner. “I’m sorry, Harry, it’s just so good to see you.”

“Um, you... too?” Harry still nervously glanced over to Louis, unsure what exactly was happening.

“It has been a few years, can’t blame you for not remembering, what with everything.” Carol — clearly the more level headed of the two — concluded. “Here, this might help.” The woman turned around to call out behind her. “Livvy? Livvy honey, come over here please.”

A moment later, a young girl stepped out between her mothers, emerald eyes curiously gazing up at the tall man, her curls tied back with a bow. Linda gently pressed a hand to the girl’s back helping her move forward just a bit. “Harry, I believe you know Olivia?”

Harry’s hand suddenly flew up and covered his mouth in shock as he looked the young girl over, taking in the familiar features, before looking once again at the women, then to Louis — realization crashing down on him.

“Lou... you... you didn’t.”

“I did.” Louis beamed as he adjusted the child on his hip.

“H-How?” Tears were beginning to fill the corners of Harry’s eyes as a smile peeked out from around his hand.

It was a strange coincidence, really. One of those ‘fate works in mysterious ways’ sort of things.

Linda had been a regular at the cafe for years, for as long as Louis had been working there. She came in on occasion for a cup of coffee as she took her daughter first to the nanny share, then to nursery, then to school. The thought often crossed Louis’ mind how much the little girl bore a striking resemblance to Harry, but he always brushed it off thinking it to be mere coincidence. When he returned to work from his paternity leave, now armed with the additional knowledge Harry had confessed to him, Louis took a chance one Saturday afternoon as the family of three were seated for lunch.

He explained to the couple what had happened since Harry went silent on them. They nodded in understanding, not the slightest bit mad at Harry after all this time. They still wanted him to be a part of their daughter’s life, even after everything — they did have him to thank for their child, after all.

The only question was how to bring them together. Louis had wanted the reunion to be special, something that would wow Harry and take him completely by surprise. In hindsight, any option would have taken Harry by surprise as he had long ago come to accept the fact he would never see his daughter again. So when Harry’s birthday crept along, Louis knew it was the opportunity he had been waiting for.

“It’s a long story,” Louis shrugged. He’d tell Harry the full story later, once the shock of everything had worn off.

Harry swiped at the tear that began to fall, revealing the widest grin Louis had ever seen. He turned to the couple beside Louis, choking on his words. “You guys... you kept the name.” It wasn’t a question, but another realization.

Carol smiled fondly down at the girl clinging her leg, running a hand over the top of her head. “Of course. The nurse had said she heard you using the name and, well, we absolutely fell in love with it. Somehow it just seemed perfect, like that’s what she was meant to be. Olivia.”

Harry nodded as the woman spoke. He had said similar words to Louis back when he had confessed his secret. Slowly, he knelt down to be eye level with the young girl, his hands folded in his lap. “Hey, there. I’m Harry.”

The child remained clinging to her mother’s leg as she looked Harry over, in all his loose floral shirt and corduroy pant glory. After a gentle nudge, she stepped forward. “Why are you crying?”

“Because I’m so happy to finally meet you.” The tears were falling a bit more frequent now, as Harry struggled to keep it together.

“Mummy says you’re my daddy. Is that true?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Harry choked on his words, trying desperately to wipe the tears from his cheeks, not wanting to look away from what he had waited so long to see.

The girl paused again as she scrunched her brows together — the same exact face Harry made when he was thinking hard over something.

“Okay.”

Without another word, the girl stepped forward and wrapped her small arms around Harry in a hug. It took a moment for Harry to realize what had just happened, but soon enough, he was hugging her back in a tight embrace, no longer able to hold back tears even a little bit — reunited at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The best part about this ending?
> 
> IS THAT IT ISN’T THE END!
> 
> I started a sequel to this! Granted, it may take me close to a year like this one. But I realized there was so much more I wanted to include — especially bits of Harry and his time in uni — that I felt it best to do a second story instead of cramming it into one. Plus there’s a few scenes I pulled out of this one to put into the next one and and and
> 
> I’m too excited for this.


End file.
